


Sweet One (Damian Wayne One-Shots)

by Anonymous



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman and Robin (Comics), Robin: Son of Batman (Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Damian Wayne, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Public Blow Jobs, Public Sex, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut, The League of Assassins (DCU), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25292947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: "I must say, beloved," he wiped his wrist across his lip, messy and lust-eyed, but you supposed Damian could be as uncivilized as he allowed himself. Considering the circumstances.His eyes darkened. Damian passed his tongue over his lip, teeth sharp. "...You taste magnificent."_Damian is 18+ in all stories.
Relationships: Damian Wayne/Reader, Damian Wayne/You
Comments: 26
Kudos: 209
Collections: anonymous





	1. First Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is exclusively a smut book for Damian Wayne from DC comics. They'll also be female!reader inserts. If you happen to like how I write, I'd love to do a request or smth for u! Just leave it in the comments section here and perhaps I'll publish a future chap that way ;)))
> 
> For this chap, there is a teeny bit of plot but it's purely for fluffy first-time reasons. First chapter is also super long, just to give you a good preview of how i write. Enjoy <3

Patrol ended on a rough patch. That was usually the case, but Damian reeked of sweat and blood, whereas you had literally been thrown around and through walls. Still, it had been a relief to see you after her two-week field trip into the Himalayas. Seeing you back in your Batgirl suit reminded Damian of how much he loved to feel you beside him in a fight. Among other things.

As soon as the two of you came home, you raced for the locker rooms. Damian disappeared into the boy's end as you entered the girl's. Being by your side all night only to separate made him immediately miss you, but both of you needed to shower first. That way, your cuddling wouldn't be all gross, and Damian could easily lean over and kiss you goodnight. After the day the two of you had had, that was all Damian wanted.

Tearing his tunic over his head, Damian scampered out of his uniform and tossed it into the laundry hamper. Moving his arms above his head felt like stretching splitting rope. Wincing, Damian dropped onto the bench in nothing but his boxers and sighed. For a moment, he could almost feel you on the other side of the wall, and he envied Jon's super-hearing and x-ray vision. How nice would it be to sense your love, regardless of where he was, surrounding him like an atmosphere of warmth.

(Damian wouldn't mind being able to sense you naked in your shower, either. That perfect butt and beautiful speckling of freckles on your shoulders... Just thinking about what you looked like under your costume sent shocks up his spine).

Dropping his boxers, Damian turned into the empty shower hall adjoined to the locker rooms and took the second stall. The warm water was a beautiful relief to his cold bones. Steam filled the room, rejuvenating his skin, and reminded him again of his girlfriend; her black cape emerging from clouds of steam on patrol was reassuring, a promise of what was to come. Damian didn't know how you were so imposing and so comforting at the same time.

And if Damian was being truthful, you were also so sexy it hurt to think about. The night before you'd left you'd cuddled him bed. How you tucked under his chin and slept in his shirt was sweet and adorable, but the way your lashes fluttered as you first took his dick inside you had left Damian delirious. As much as Damian missed you, he missed the space between your legs, too.

Just the memories of that night stuck his member straight. If he was quick, Damian could pump out an orgasm and get out of the shower in time to intercept the end of yours. One thing you'd taught him about himself is how much Damian loved to dress you; there was something so tender and intimate about pulling your panties back over your hips or kissing your shoulder as he buttoned your shirt. Not to mention how beautiful Damian's beloved was when naked. He loved the soft feel of your breasts in his hands or how stunning your hips and thighs were, especially if Damian was inside you as you felt one another.

Damian took the hard base of his dick in hand and let the water flood down his back as he pumped himself. How on Earth could one person be so enchanting? Even the sound of you moaning his name was ethereal, nevermind the suctioned fucking of his cock within you. He tipped his forehead against the tiled wall, stroking faster, aroused beyond measure.

"Wow," a voice behind him said. "Couldn't even wait for me?"

Damian jolted. "Y/N!"

"I was wondering if I could join you," you said, gesturing to the shower. Your smile was sly.

Without an answer, you dropped your towel outside the stall and entered with him naked. You were already wet—you must have gotten in her own shower and missed him so much that you came around to his.

Your body was even prettier in person. Damian's memories sharpened as he admired you, remembering how easily you had taken the whole ten-inches of Damian's girth, how tempting your breasts were, how well-shaped your body was. Just as Damian was looking you over, you licked shower water off your lips, looking at his heavy dick.

"I figured you'd be lonely," You said. "I thought I'd come over and keep you company. You seem very... tense."

Damian blushed. "This is not what you think it is, Y/N"

You rolled your eyes. You found Damian's body wash and squeezed some into your hand, smiling at the familiar smell. "I meant your poor back. Turn around for me real quick."

If it made hiding his shame easier, Damian did it. Your hands spread over the aching tissue, applying the soap as you applied your strength, working out the kinks in the handsome frame of his back. Your touch was an instant relaxer. Damian couldn't help but sigh and sink into you, loving his girlfriend.

"You didn't have to come in here," Damian mumbled. "I would be fine."

Your thumbs unwound the muscle in his neck from behind. "I know that. But your back has been bothering you all night, and I hated seeing you in pain."

The admission warmed Damian's heart. He closed his eyes.

"I love you."

"And I love you," You kissed his shoulder. With your strength, you had easily worked out the worst of the ache in his back. "Anything I can do to help you destress?"

Damian's cock twitched. Oh, now you were just _trying_ to turn him on.

"Ah," you grinned. The soapy hands on his back glided with a deadly slowness under his arms and around his front, where you readily lathered his cock. "How's this?"

One of your hands kept a stiff hold on his base as the other pumped soap along his length, smooth and gradual. It was meant to be seductive, but how loving you were about it just made Damian feel treasured. His eyes fluttered closed when you began to pepper kisses along his shoulder. You made sure to squish your chest against his back, too, which watered his mouth like the smell of dessert.

"G-good..." Damian moaned, "Very good..."

"My poor baby," You cooed, slicking the slippery head of his dick with body wash. "First, you've got your beat-up back, and now this big, long erection to deal with. Good thing I'm around to take care of you, huh?"

And fuck, did you take care of him alright: your hands were pumping him from both ends, now, squeezing, pushing up then pulling down, knowing exactly how to make Damian lose it. The soap made things four times as slippery. That way, your fingers were gliding over the vieny muscle with patient flicks of your wrist.

"Who did this to you?" You cooed, knowing damn well who did. "I think they need to be punished for this."

Damian's chin couldn't decide if it should be tossed back or hung low in his pleasure. He decided on the second option, as it meant Damian's neck was exposed to your kisses and nose-nuzzling. To tease him, your hands would sometimes drop his cock and wash somewhere else, only to inevitably come back around his middle and around Damian's length again. He was proud of how big he was, but comparing the size of his cock to your hand filled his chest with smugness.

Finally, you rinsed your hands and used them to coax the soap off of his skin. The showerhead's pressure felt relieving on his back and teasing on his sensitive cock.

"Do you agree?" You flirted in his ear. "Do you think whoever turned you on so much should be punished?"

Damian growled low in his throat. "Oh, I _definitely_ agree."

As you had done before, Damian plucked your bodywash off the shelf and squirted a glob into his hand. Your legs seemed to tremble in anticipation. Now that he was facing you, Damian could see how red you were—you blushed more than anyone Damian had ever met, and he supposed that was his fault.

Creating a lather between his palms, Damian enticed you into a deep kiss. A moan stuttered it's way out of your mouth. With his soapy hands, Damian squeezed and squished your breasts together, watching with dark eyes as the soap bubbles disappeared into your cleavage. You kissed as he kneaded your chest, and you kissed as Damian slithered a hand down your belly, joined the slick between your legs, and began to tirelessly fuck you with his fingers.

Your moan was soft and lasting, caught in your throat every time Damian's fingers jerked against your clit. The fingers still massaging your breast moved around your back to cup your ass. Held against him, you bucked between his hands and whimpered deliciously.

Between the two shower heads in the stall, Damian pushed your back against the wall. You were shuddering still from the intensity of his fingers. It made you clay-like and malleable, so Damian lifted you by the thighs and threatened the sensitive entrance to your pussy with the blunt head of his dick.

"Please," you moaned, both hands clinging to his neck. You were desperately biting down on your tongue to store your composure. "Please, Damian, fuck..."

The slippery tip of his cock dipped in and out of your pussy with ease. Damian loved to watch how wild your eyes got every time he pulled away, gently running his head over your core. You floundered and gasped. For such a small action, you trembled like a leaf in fall.

"You want me to make love to you?" Damian flattened you to the wall with his weight, which made you appear smaller than usual—when you breathed, he could feel it.

"Mhm," you gasped. You put your face in his neck. "Love you so much..."

Holding you close, Damian applied the tip of his cock to your pussy, and the second he began to press in you moaned like—well, like you were a pastry and Damian was the filling. To your tiny center, Damian's cock seemed to go on forever. Your pussy was tight and velvety, gripping the wide girth of him in a vice that buckled Damian's knees. Not a centimeter was left unfilled when Damian hit you to the hilt. Any average man would have left something to view in the space between them, but Damian's cock conquered your core like a mixer to frosting.

He watched your expression with delight. Your eyes rolled back and you bit down on your lip to control herself, all because of the liquid feeling of his cock fitting inside you. "Damian..." You gasped.

"Feels good, Y/N?" Damian gave a teasing buck that caught in your throat. "Do you like that?"

"Missed this," Your cupped his neck and pressed your brows together, gasping in his breath and kissing at his mouth.

Pulling out to the tip, Damian kissed you into the wall and felt your moans slip between his lips as he filled you up again. It was a wonderful sensation. You would react so dramatically with every push and pull, digging your nails into his shoulders and squeezing your thighs against him, all because of your sex. Hours could have passed by with that same pattern. Damian would hold you close and coo his love between thrusts, adoring the squeals and whines that would escape you when your pussy filled out with cock. Your kiss was especially sensual—any moment not drawn out to the fullest was a moment wasted.

You came with a soft jerking of your hips. When you opened your eyes, Damian was studying you with the same intense post-sex stare, dazed and green. It reminded you of the first time you'd had sex, Damian's watching eyes. So deep green and brown. How red he'd gone, seeing you naked for the first time...

Two years had gone by since you'd become Batgirl, and one had flown off since Damian had confessed his feelings for you. With all the work and trauma, you felt more bonded to Damian than ever. Being in his space was your first and greatest outlet for escape from the burdens of life. With him, you'd only ever felt good and painless things, as if your whole life had been spent swimming and suddenly there was an island ahead.

And if you had been comfortable with one another before, you were soulmates now. Damian would pry open with stories behind his scars. He'd even let you kiss them, sometimes, and the two of you liked to pretend that it made them ache less. You worried for a little while that you weren't all that interesting to Damian, but just like him for you, Damian's eyes never strayed from yours.

The girls they saw in public weren't fascinating to Damian. You'd never caught him staring at anyone but you, and that wasn't because he was secretive about it. In fact, Damian was a dumb level of obvious when it came to just how beautiful he thought you were. Each line of your face had been printed in Damian's sketchbook in a dozen different ways, all on the pages he would return to fill out when he needed to stop thinking and just draw. Sometimes you would lie together and all he could manage was an affectionate stare. 

As you grew closer, that obviousness dwindled down to nothing. Love was a language that (even if he didn't think so) came easily to Damian. Sexy girlfriends were not.

Sparring usually meant that you pinned him. Half because you fought more with your legs than anything else, and half because the flushed color of his skin is too tempting to resist. The first time it happened, he was sweaty with work and grunting with every hit.

Damian brought his arms up in a block. You struck him back, and taking advantage of his slowness, jumped onto his front and brought you both down hard on the sparring mat. You took the landing so hard that the edges of the mat flew up.

"Ugh," Damian panted. "Was that really necessary?"

"Yes," You grinned to yourself.

You released his wrists and cupped each warm side of his face instead, chest fluttering with pleasure even after all this time. The moment your lips met Damian was kissing her back. You adjusted yourself with a soft moan, pulling your weight off him to give him room and resetting it onto his lap. Damian instantly started shuffling and worming around underneath you for escape. Naive, you figured he was just being weird and reassuringly kissed his lips another time.

"Hell," you gasped away from the kiss. Shivers danced up the length of your vertebrae like a game of ping-pong. "Wow, you're a good kisser. Don't stop."

Damian blushed. "Okay."

With a gasp of air, you bent over him and resumed kissing, massaging your hands up and down his chest and shoulders. Damian's knees went shock-still. As you kissed, he half-followed along and half-fumbled for composure. It wasn't totally unusual for him to get all bashful if you were kissing in a risky position. Your excitement was a wild thing too. You would breathe messily against his mouth, sucking air in through your teeth and nipping at his lips, moving in a constant bob that animated your kissing. Your rhythm stroked your hips together. The next time you shuffled up his front to readjust, you resettled onto a bulge so stiff it was painful.

That shifted you frame of mind quite a bit. You let him escape the training mat with his knees pressed together, hiding your face in her hands. Not because you were embarrassed that the rubbing up on Damian you'd done had sprung an erection out of him (well, a little), but... He was... _big_.

Every training session you had since then, you made sure to wear the same kind of tight shorts that had turned him on so much. After the third time that your snuggling or pecking or Batgirl-ing had turned Damian on to the point of a change in blood flow, you gained the courage to talk about it.

"You shouldn't be embarrassed." You put your hands on his shoulders and kissed Damian's hair, still damp from the sparring he'd escaped from again. "It's not like you can control it, and it's perfectly normal."

Damian just grunted. "Hmf."

"Hmf? That's all I get?" You imitated him. From where he sat on the edge of his bed, Damian still didn't reply, not allowing you to see how truly ashamed he felt. Sensing it anyway, you snuck your hands under his arms and embraced him from behind. "You know I love you. You know it doesn't bother me. So why are you all shy?"

He worked his jaw. Considered you, nose lifted. "I've... never dealt with something like this before."

"Never? Never ever?" You pulled back to give him space. You didn't look too closely at the problem in Damian's pants, but you could feel the intense amount of effort he was putting into shutting things off. "You've never had a boner?"

"Of course I have," Damian grouched, holding back the urge to flex his fingers nervously on his knee. "But it... goes away. Quickly. Not like this."

"Ohhh," You nodded. "You don't masturbate? What do you do when it won't go away?"

Again, Damian gave you the stiffest answer. "I suppress them. But at the moment, that is not exactly working."

You raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Why do you think, Y/N?" Damian scoffed, fighting the blush creeping up his neck. "Sitting there in your day dress... exposing yourself... foolish."

A sly look crossed your face, eclipsing your own burst of flattery. Damian uttered the words as if you were a curse, always putting up his big _no-hugs_ front, but your Batgirl-senses were definitely going off. He wasn't getting any less turned on any time soon. Encouraged, you crawled so your lips barely kissed his ear and pushed your chest against his back.

"So it's all my fault then, huh?" You mocked quietly. "All of this because I showed a little leg..."

Your back stiffened. He growled, "You're not helping."

"I know a way I can, though," you flirted, and gave his neck the slightest kiss. "Do you want me to help you out with your problem, Damian...?"

You made sure to say his name in the slow, smooth way that would result in Damian's extra passionate kisses. This time it had a twice as powerful effect: Damian went shock-straight under your touch and coughed from how hard he was blushing.

"Um," Damian's tone wavered, "Really?"

You kissed his neck again and nuzzled your nose there with giggles. "I wouldn't mind. If you'd let me."

All your affection had worsened his state by a significant amount, so much so that you didn't even have to look to know Damian's boxers were bursting. Nervousness filled out your stomach. It was a hard thing to ignore, but you really wanted to impress Damian—he was always proud of your ability to adapt, so perhaps the same would apply here.

"Have you ever, uh, done that before?" Damian flitted a hand through his hair.

"I've had practice," you pat his shoulders with assurance. "You'd be my first, but trust me, I can handle it."

Lifting his head to finally look back at you, Damian's smile was sheepish and his ears were pink. When you met eyes, Damian's pupils were big and black, glancing the light with an animated shyness. His hand carefully covered yours.

"You don't have to. Really. I can understand how that may be unpleasant. We haven't yet had the opportunity to see one another naked before, so I would understand why you might not want to... to _pleasure_ me, right now..."

With a quick bounce to take up his side on the bed's edge, you smoothed your skirt down and bit your lip as you looked at him. He'd avoided looking at you this whole time, but right about then was when he gave in. Damian's eyes eagerly memorized the line of your skin along your shoulders and exposed chest, and the smooth glisten of your legs through the thin drapes of mesh that made up your white dress-skirt.

"You want to see me naked, then?" You asked.

"I mean—I _suppose_ —" Damian floundered, waving his hands as if they could summon his composure. With a jump, he put them over the space between his legs so you couldn't see how hard he was. "If that is what you want. I could never push you..."

"Doesn't sound like you're pushing me," You shrugged. When you stood from the bed an odd noise escaped his throat, and you made sure to wink at him before you locked his bedroom door. Damian's eyes followed you all the way there and back.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Damian seemed to regret changing into his ninja turtles t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants earlier, eyes lingering on the casual but beautiful nature of your dress. A trash bag would have looked good on you, but white was especially fine against your skin tone.

"Sure," murmured Damian.

"Did you know," you sunk your knee into the space between his legs, "that," you slid your hands across the broad hill of his shoulders and the muscles in his neck, "I don't have," your lips kissed under his ear, "a gag reflex?"

"N-no," Damian sweat, absolutely floored.

"Good throat muscle control, too, so no aches or pains..." said you, touching your noses, "My Batgirl training covers _all_ the bases."

The kiss against Damian's mouth was slow, teasing, and giggly. As your lips met and mingled your hand took the leading fingers on Damian's. Guiding him, you showed him how to push the sleeve of your dress off, stopping his pulse and renewing it in the same breath. Paying attention to the kiss meant Damian would experience less of this, so he gave you a lasting peck and pulled off to focus on your state of undress. Courage must have started to drain into Damian, as he lovingly slipped both sleeves further down your arms.

"Incredible," Damian murmured.

You blushed and laughed, "Oh, shut up. It's only my bra."

Again, Damian looked down and blushed. "How are you not nervous?"

You took Damian's fingers and applied them to your pulse, which clattered under your scarred skin like a racehorse. Your gazes met as Damian realized just how you felt, and his softened some. "You don't need to be. I will... enjoy myself either way."

"I know. I'm just trying to focus on how excited I am instead of how scared I am that I'm gonna mess up," you admitted.

"You don't need to be afraid." Damian's hands jumped around for a proper place to hold you, which ended up being under your elbows as you leaned over him. "But... you're excited?"

"Well, let's see," you played with your fingers. "I'm about to... you know, be intimate with the man I love, which I've never done before, and you've never done before. Maybe it's weird, but... I'm actually really happy that I'm your first."

Damian pressed his thumbs into the inside of your arm, massaging there as your gazes melted together. "Me too. There is no better choice but you."

Again, your hands carefully cupped his neck. You leaned down slowly, letting your shadow drape over his face as your nose neared his, and kissed him like you were tasting chocolate. Damian warmly wrapped his arms around your middle and kissed back.

With stuttery fingers, Damian felt his way up your back until the seam of your dress stopped. He hooked his fingers into both sleeves of your dress and pulled down, devouring every new inch of skin with his eyes, mouth instantly watering at the incoming taste of you. After getting a nod as permission, Damian's hands smoothed around your hips until your dress dropped to her feet. A naked girl was suddenly something incredibly interesting to Damian. Just in your underwear, you were stunning.

Damian blanked. "Uh..."

"You can touch," you reminded, trying your best to smile with confidence even if your arms crossed self-consciously over your chest.

The first thing Damian touched was a Batgirl-scar on your belly. Even just that swirled fantasies in his mind. All the ways you could kiss, make love... All the ways that Damian could touch you, too, which filled out his burden to a painful point. When you didn't protest, Damian continued the exploration of his partner, running his fingers along the sides of your legs and along your ribs.

"TT," Damian said, eyes flicking up to his girlfriend's, "This is unfair, teasing me in such a way. May I?"

Again, you took in a little breath for preparation, then nodded. Damian couldn't help but smirk to himself at your cuteness. To remind you who you were revealing yourself to, he pressed a devoted kiss to the inside of your wrist and then reached around your back. You responded with a pleasant little gasp as Damian stood and took your chest in his hands.

"Do you like them?" You tried to flirt.

"No," Damian scowled automatically, realized his nervousness was making him extra defensive, then blushed. "Alright. _Yes_..."

You shyly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him. Damian sighed into your mouth, cupping your face in one hand and treasuring the touch. He'd known you were beautiful, but actually seeing you naked made Damian realize how little he'd appreciated that beauty. Feeling more courageous, Damian bent down and hesitated to kiss your neck, but the sensation was easy to relax into with your hands in his hair. The column of muscle in your throat tasted sweet.

"W-wow," you praised, lashes fluttering. "You're really good at this..."

Damian sucked a mark into your skin and dropped one hand to fondle one of your breasts. The combination made a moan spill from your mouth. Encouraged, Damian dropped both of his hands to your chest and squished them together, pecking around your jaw in a way that made you gasp and shudder.

"And you said you had no experience," you giggled. "There's no way you haven't done this before."

"I am perfect at everything I do," Damian smirked.

A thumb nail pressed into his chin. You lured him into another kiss, pushing in to deepen the passion of it. "Let's see how well I do, then."

Damian stood still in his nervousness, opening his mouth to mumble about being ready, only for you to hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and lead him to the end of the bed. As one sly shape, you dragged your hands from his shoulders to his hips as you settled on your knees in front of him. He did his best to relax into his elbows. This was hard to accomplish in the first place, but the glimmer in your eye made everything much harder.

"Ready?" You asked, lashes low over your eyes, "'Cause I am."

"G-go slow," Damian coughed. Clearing the stutter out of his voice, he smiled with a shy curl to his lip. "Thank you. For this."

Envigored, you kept her eyes to Damian's and ran both your hands with full breadth over his hips. Each stroke dug your nails into Damian's leg muscle and tensed his over-hard dick. In his pants, it would flex and strain with each breath of his, something you watched with rapt attention. There was enough fabric on his pants to conceal just how big he was. Either way, you hypnotically drew his waistband down under his manhood, and blushed ferociously when you came face to face with the front of his boxers. (To his luck, Damian was wearing the nice silk kind).

"Oh my god..." You whispered.

Damian balled his hands and swallowed. "What?"

"You're... huge," you said, thumbing the inside of his thigh. "Like... fake-huge."

"It's real," Damian defended. He was incredibly conscious of how close you were to his dick, and didn't dare to move an inch in case Damian scared you away.

Careful, you leaned down and gave his boxers the slightest kiss. It touched the front of his bent cock, and the second kiss was close beside it, just under his tip. Courage woke up in your chest. Meeting Damian's eyes, you dropped down to suck a wet circle around his aching length. The bareness of the touch was a satisfying relief to his needy nerves. He groaned a strangled sound. You probably should've expected Damian to be so well-endowed... His genetics _were_ perfect, so a big dick was plausible. Broad and thick were two words that described Damian well too. In your mouth, Damian was the very same. Hearing the hum your kissing produced from his mouth, you decided it was time to unwrap your package and shook off your nervousness.

"May I?" You mimicked his earlier words, covering his cock with your hand.

Damian had flopped onto his back at the new sensation, looking at the ceiling through his fingers and breathing shallow breaths into his palms. You took the chance to slide a hand up his stomach. There, his abdominals fluttered and flexed wildly, already misty with sweat and gleaming in the low light of the room.

"Yeah, yeah," Damian panted, "Do as you want."

You pushed his pants down around his ankles, then resettled between Damian's strong legs with your hands braced in his boxers. Damian's anticipation flew out of him like a wild horse, so you kissed the stressed muscle above his cock with as much love as possible. 

With one tight drag, Damian's cock bounced out of his boxers and smacked heavily against his naval. It was tall and proud and long—just looking at it made your mouth water. Damian really was perfect. His cock looked like a drawing in an unrealistic porno, vieny but not ugly, and when you gave his length a pump the beginnings of his cum leaked onto your hand.

"Woah," You blushed. In your hand, Damian's cock twitched, and above you, it's owner's hands did the same.

"Please, Y/N..." Damian whispered.

You gave his cock two more pumps, applying more pressure with your hand, drawing a real moan out of him for the first time. Damian groaned low in his throat and the sound rumbled in the space between you.

"Good?" You giggled.

"Hnn," Damian nodded mindlessly.

You licked the cum off your hand and up the side of Damian's length. You had never seen him like this... Damian's knees were pressed into your sides, his whole body was sweating, and underneath his hands Damian's neck and face were completely shadowed in red. The nervousness he would hold close to his chest was suddenly written all over him, in the deep cavernous breaths he took and the mindless tossing of his head as your tongue pleasured him. From your angle, you could see Damian's lashes screwed together in two sharp lines of black against his usual composure.

Considering how much Damian liked your licking, you did it again, and paid close attention to his tip. Pleasure radiated from the nerves under your tongue. Kissing, hugging—they were both acts of affection that made things intimate with a boyfriend, but blowing Damian was easily the closest you'd been overall. You could feel the hungry buzzing in Damian's stomach as you pumped him faster.

You started gently, taking Damian's bulbous head into your silky mouth and working on the first three inches with shallow bobs of your head. Damian liked this so much that one of his hands jumped down his stomach to stroke at your hair. To be more accessible to his affection, you moved up onto her knees. This accidentally pushed Damian even deeper into your mouth. With your drool-slathered tongue soaking his head and your hand pumping steadily at his base, Damian groaned deep in his throat.

Looking at him shudder and sweat, tasting the warm salty taste of his cum, you felt an overwhelming rush of appreciation. No other girl had ever made Damian feel this way before. All of this, his glistening abs, his soft moans, his huge dick—all of him was yours. The girls who had gossiped to you at galas about how sexy Damian was would never have any of this. Every time a girl with a crush on him fantasized about giving Damian a blowjob, that was all they'd ever get—Damian loved _you_ , had chosen _you_ , and you were going to be the only person who ever made him feel this good.

The thought that Damian was all yours—that you would get to do this for the rest of your lives—made you so wet that you probably should've left a bucket under your spread knees. Your moans were high-pitched and hummed around his cock, which would twitch and pulse under your attention. The arousal in your panties was so rich that Damian could practically taste it.

You tilted your head and wrapped your lips around the side of Damian's delicious dick, flicking your wrist repeatedly to get him off. He tasted like caramel. Not only was Damian crazy fit, but his cum and cock were the perfect combination of sweet and salty, melting in your mouth like chocolate candy.

Since Damian had collapsed onto his back, you were free to give his cock your full attention. After a while, though, Damian fumbled back up onto his elbows, watching intently as you sucked and slurped on the body of his manhood. His buttery gaze spooled around your face, but you could tell he was the most fascinated with your eyes and mouth. You paused to rub his cockhead against the slippery front of your tongue, moaning and letting your eyes roll back at the pleasure of sucking him off. Watching you, Damian's back arched off the bed.

"So good..." You said around your mouthful, winking at him, "Love how big you are, Dames..."

"Y-you do?" Damian choked.

"Mhm," You pressed the vibration of your hums hard against the base of his dick, "Want me do go deeper?"

He passed both hands through his hair, both brows high over his eyes. "You can go _deeper?_ "

On command, you steadied his base and wrapped your lips around his tip, fluttering your seductive E/C eyes shut as you took the whole length of him. Just for effect, you pushed your nose into his stomach. Your throat swallowed and swallowed until Damian's massive cock was stuffing you like cream.

When you came off, you kissed his base. "No gag reflex, remember?"

Floored, Damian froze up at the knees. " I love you."

"You know I love you too," you blushed. His constant praise was so encouraging that Damian made you feel like a pro, and a confident one at that. "But I have to admit..." Your tongue paused to lap at the bottom of his dick, "...I like your friend here a bit too."

"I'm glad," Damian panted, "You are... You are... incredible. Are you comfortable?"

You fit your teeth around the girth of his cock in one bob of your head, then pulled back with pre-cum dripping from her your, and gasped, "I could give you blowjobs for _hours_."

Had this been a cartoon, a twin set of hearts would pop over Damian's eyes. One of his broad hands lovingly drew your hair out of the way of your work, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I am enjoying this too. Do you... do you think you can do that thing again? Where you, uh..."

"Deepthroat you?" You finished.

Damian blushed. "Yes."

A nod. You closed your eyes and ran your tongue under the underside of Damian's cock, then up it, then around it and completely down. Damian unreleased like a mousetrap. Sucking hard, you gulped down the girth of his fat cock and bobbed your head on and off the last two inches of him, suckling rough around the very bottom. You hadn't been lying when you told him how long you could go at this—Batgirl or not, you realized that you loved giving Damian head. The sounds he made, the spring and release of his muscle under your touch, the taste and mouthfeel of the length of cock down your throat... Every time Damian stepped closer to his orgasm, you felt a rush of pure love shoot straight through your panties like a shot of adrenaline.

He loved you so much. As you flattened your nose against his stomach, Damian cooed and held your hair out of your face, always the kindest or most attentive in secret. Your closeness was a beautiful sort of wingspan that flew so far beyond the two of you. Watching relaxation seep into Damian's face urged you to take a casual pace, and you roamed along his legs with your hands as you pleasured him.

"Close," Damian touched your jaw.

"Do you want me to..." You pointed to your lips, then your hand, giving him options.

"In your mouth," Damian whispered. He threw a wrist over his forehead, showing off the defined muscle in his arms. "...Please, Y/N."

With a nod and a kiss to the side of his cock, you slowed your pace to a painful point, working his head with slurping and sucking, only to drop lower, and lower, swallowing every inch of his cock with dedicated worship. Your hands smoothed over the tensed shape of Damian's thighs. Sensing him getting near, you moaned low and prepared yourself to get the very last of him. You could only imagine the sight you were. Just looking at you turned Damian on. With your eyes shut in arousal and his pulsing cock stuffing your lips, Damian came with a growled slip of your name.

Trying to keep up with how fast and how much Damian came became a bit too much for you, but you persevered. His cum filled up your throat, but you swallowed and swallowed, milking what had to be a glassful of pure Damian cum. What you didn't manage to drink spurted out of your mouth and pooled in sticky heaps down your chin and into your cleavage. The feeling of him cumming had been so personal and hot that your panties were effectively soaked.

"Good girl," Damian praised, breathless and boneless. His head was tossed back. "Very good girl."

Giggling, you wiped yourself off then rose to snuggle against his side. Right away, Damian's eyes followed you, and his hands opened to pull you close to his warmth. You put her cheek against his chest so each heavy breath lifted your head. Shyly, you played with the collar of his shirt.

"That was..." Damian trailed off. "You are..."

You smirked. "Good?"

Damian smiled. He took your wrist and kissed it, love bleeding from his eyes. "Better than."

But that blowjob had only been the start of things. In the next two weeks, you remembered how Damian would collect you with his eyes, puncturing your stare with one that promised that the favor he owed you was going to be paid in full. He didn't ask you to give him another blowjob, but you offered him plenty of times.

(And... okay. He accepted. More than once. It was really hard to resist you).

That was where Damian decided to make a plan. He wanted to return the favor for all that you did for him. You'd begun to date because Damian had been honest about his feelings, so Damian laid in wait for a moment to be honest with you again.

Said moment came after a long mission. All Damian wanted was to see his beloved again. He didn't need any more than that if you were too tired, but there was no way you wouldn't indulge his desire for backrubs or snuggling. As he unlocked the door to your shared apartment in Gotham, Damian comforted himself with the idea that you would be there and that the mission was over.

Before that, Damian strode into your bedroom and changed out of his mission's backup clothes and into a pair of cozy sweatpants and a t-shirt. It was those sweatpants that you had first pleasured him in. Thinking about that swirled other thoughts in Damian's mind, and though he wouldn't dare push the subject if you didn't want to, he knew it would be nice to have you again tonight.

Damian found you in the kitchen listening to music. You faced away from him in nothing but a tank top and panties, as beautiful as ever. Sensing him, you set down the pen you'd been writing with.

"My love," Damian greeted. You immediately moved into his arms, welcoming him home with a sweet kiss on the cheek. It was so easy to pull you close and remain that way. "I have missed you."

As you spoke, Damian dropped his brow onto your shoulder. You smelled like brownies and fudge. Good things. "Me too! I know it was only three days, but it felt like forever. Everything go alright?"

"TT," Damian murmured into your shoulder. "As per usual, I was the most competent person in the room. But I suppose it all worked out."

One of your hands smoothed into his hair, scratching the underside of his ungelled curls in the way that always made him bite down a smile. You sweetly stroked his back. "Good. I didn't worry though. Robin always saves the day."

The phrase stirred something deep in Damian. Hearing your assurance, feeling your love pressed in all around him... Damian fastened his arms deep around your waist and pressed your bodies even closer together. It was always you who believed in him first.

"Hm," you smiled into his hair at Damian's closeness. "Guess you really did miss me."

Damian just sighed. Beside their conversation, Elvis was crooning about love and rivers and seas, and the soft melody subconsciously shifted Damian's footing. So used to dancing with him, you nuzzled your nose into his neck. You began to sway.

"What do you want to do tonight?" You asked him.

Damian pulled one of your hands off his neck and held it within his own, using it to direct your dance. But you were too tired for anything too crazy, and just remained there, swaying in each other's embrace as if the sun was setting at your backs.

"Finish reading my book," Damian mumbled. "We could watch a movie, If that is something you would like."

"I've been cooped up watching movies all weekend," you said, and Damian could easily picture the face you might make as if it was printed on the middle of his palm. "I kinda want to try something new. I don't know what that'd be, but... I don't know. You get me?"

Damian nodded, thinking. "I get you."

Swaying, you closed your arm around his neck and leaned into him. Damian realized that would be a good moment to bring up trying something new bedroom-wise, but he didn't want to push you—and, okay, maybe he was also a tad bit nervous. That nervousness could never escape her.

"What's on your mind?" You asked.

Something stirred low in Damian's gut. "If you would like... I know something we could try tonight."

You hummed, listening, which reminded Damian of the way you would pleasure him. In the last couple of weeks, you'd gotten so good at giving him head. In comparison, all Damian had done sexually was receive, which was nowhere near your level of sexual skill. Guilt stirred in his belly. He wanted to do something special for you, but he really didn't want to mess up when you'd been doing so great in comparison.

You asked, "What is it?"

"Um," Damian blushed, "You... you have pleasured me very much lately, Y/N. I would like to return the courtesy."

Your head shot off his shoulder. Your eyes stirred into his, "You want to have sex?"

"I..." Well, Damian's original plan was to kneel between your legs, but now that he thought about it... He had wanted to move forward for a long time. There was no rule against doing both at one time, anyway.

"Yes," Damian straightened his posture, but softened it at the gooey look you were giving him. "I would like to make love to you tonight."

"Well, I should probably take a shower first, just so I can be all pretty for you," you laughed and stroked his shoulders.

Damian fiddled with your hair. "You're already pretty. But I agree. I should do the same."

You had separate showers for the purpose of surprise. You took the shower across the apartment, and Damian spent twenty minutes in your bedroom's bathroom cleaning himself up. He resorted to researching on the internet, which gave at least somewhat-helpful tips for what was to come. As nervous as Damian was, excitement churned in his chest. He honestly had never thought that anyone would ever love him enough to want to have sex with him. Because of that, Damian had cut any chance of it out of his plan for the future. Now that you were in his life, Damian realized how happy he was that he'd never cut you out. Sure, you were his best friend, but you were also Damian's dream girl—his future wife, if he played his cards right.

After eating a snack and brushing his teeth, Damian lit a few candles throughout your room and drew the curtains open. Sunset would be upon them soon. Nerves prickling in anticipation, Damian sat on the end of the bed and waited in his nicest pair of boxers.

A little while after that, when the sun had turned the room soft shades of orange and purple, you drew the door open. Casual as ever, you crossed the room while tying your robe and plopped down beside him.

"Hi," you smiled.

Damian kept his mouth a bare smirk. "Hello."

"So..." you slipped your finger up his elbow. "How do you want to do this?"

"Whatever way you would like," Damian raised his fingers to brush your hair out of her face, admiring her expression.

"Very specific of you," you blushed.

Trying to remember all the things the articles had said, Damian sprayed our facts. "Missionary is usually the best position for a couple new to intercourse. But I am willing to do what is most comfortable. I have also bought these condoms—"

"Hey," you giggled. "Ease up. It's okay. This is me. You're nervous, I'm nervous, so let's ride it out. Anything I should know on your end before we do this?"

"What do you mean?" Damian flexed his fingers over his knee.

"I just want to know if you have any... personal favorites? Sex-wise?" You shrugged, bluntly. "Personally, I like seeing your face, and I really like it when you moan in my ear. You?"

Blown away by your boldness, Damian steeled his limbs to keep them from wiggling around with his anxiety. "Um... I enjoy it when you... say my name. And hold my hands."

At the suggestion, you slyly reached between you and took both of his hands, kissing him soundly on each palm. "Sounds good, Damian."

Heart racing, Damian felt you pull away and stand from the bed, only to hook your knee over his thighs and straddle his lap. His hands jumped around to keep you from falling off.

"Are you ready?" You asked.

Damian shyly nodded.

"Okay, well," between them, you pulled out the strings of your robe and presented them to him. Flirtatious, you teased your nails under his chin. "Why don't you unwrap your present?"

Butterflies filled out Damian's belly. He raised an eyebrow. "Present."

"Yes, your present," you teased. "Go on."

Careful to not create another knot, Damian shot you one more look before pulling the tie free. He blinked in shock.

In his lap sat the most divine creature Damian had ever seen. Underneath the long bathrobe, you were in a full set of matching lingerie made from black see-through fabric decorated with hearts. Straps connected your thong to a decorative strap around your waist, and then mesh heart stockings that hugged your beautiful legs. Your bra was also see-through, with cute puffy frill cups that made you look like a princess. With your pretty hair and warm eyes, you looked adorably sexy. You smoothed your hands around his shoulders as Damian gaped at you.

"Surprise," you smirked. "Like what you see?"

Shy, Damian cupped your sides and marveled at the gorgeous shape of your body. "I-I do. You look... enchanting."

That broke your composure. With a blush, you ran a finger next to your ear. "Thank you. I bought this set just for you."

"Do I really get to...?" Damian held your hips, fumbling along your sides. "With you? You really want to spend your first experience on me?"

Sweetly, you turned Damian's chin back toward you. You gave him an encouraging kiss. "Of course I do. I love you, Damian."

The blush on his face would be new to anyone else, but you had a talent for putting one in Damian's cheeks. You had a similar talent for dimpling his face with smiles, and as you cupped his jaw to grin warmly at him, one of those classic smiles took over Damian's face. Lately, you'd realized that Damian was becoming a person that smiled often.

"You deserve more than me, Y/N," he murmured, green eyes swimming with heart, "But I swear that I will do everything to be the best partner I am able."

Instead of saying something in reply, instead of protesting, you squeezed yourself against him. Being in his lap made the embrace even closer than usual, and for an instant it seemed like you were trying to fuse them into one person. Not like Damian would mind.

"You overdramatic dummy," you sighed.

Then you leaned in and you were kissing. If Damian had improved at anything since your first tries at intimacy, it was touching you. His hands immediately seared up your back and dragged you deeper into his lap, waking up his erection between the thin fabrics of his boxers and your thong. When you were close enough to tongue-kiss, Damian caressed up your thighs and middle to cup your breasts, kneading them with enough force for you to moan. The sound tasted like chocolate on his tongue.

He didn't want to be rough. (That sort of experiment could come later). Just before you'd dated did Damian's fantasies kick into high gear, moving from dreams about innocent hand-holding to passionate lovemaking. Damian's knowledge of sex was thin—he didn't watch movies or porn, nor did he talk about it with friends or read books. All he had was his visions of you. He'd thought about being rough before, but all of his best fantasies were long and drawn out, basking in the flavor of your skin, the beautiful flex of your body, the sexy shape of you under Damian's mouth. He didn't want this to be over quickly. What he wanted was for things to last, and what he wanted was to worship your form—to make love to you.

So that was exactly what Damian did. The articles he read mentioned how some women liked to be in charge and some women liked shows of dominance. Damian's judgment dictated that you were a verse; his judgment was confirmed, too, when Damian ordered her to lie down and she jumped at the chance to listen.

In youth, he could never understand why boys or men could gawk at women. Now it all made sense. Everything about you was too perfect not to marvel at, and as you rolled onto your back and shyly spread her legs, Damian couldn't look away if he tried. The low light of the sunset illuminated your skin with a healthy glow. Your lashes fluttered like butterflies and your breasts heaved with your chest at every breath. He stepped between your legs and raked his eyes across your thighs and arms and belly. Breathless, Damian licked his lips and crawled on top of you.

"Nice view," you whistled, massaging the raw muscle in Damian's arms.

Through half-lidded eyes, Damian admired your exposed throat and perky nipples. "You're telling me."

Slowly, Damian dropped his lips to your collarbone. Love-marks soon filled your neck, and he loved to watch how every little kiss affected you. Your hips squirmed under him, knees fidgeting against his waist. You moaned deliciously at the affection, "Damian..."

"May I touch you?" Damian tried not to keel in too much at the lovely feeling of your nails coasting his upper neck.

"Whatever you want," You smiled, and winked open an eye to glance at him, "I'm just enjoying how sweet you're being."

Encouraged, Damian dropped his front onto his elbows and pushed the elastic band of your bra over your tits. They were another thing about the opposite sex that hadn't been attractive until you came around. Your breasts were perfect and fleshy, fit with rosy nipples that were firm in the cold. In Damian's big hands, they seemed soft and cute.

"Whatever I want. Hm." Damian echoed. "Are you sure about that, my beloved?"

You watched him press a kiss to the skin between your breasts, blushing like a plum in direct sunlight. You giggled, "Now you're making me unsure."

Damian's lashes fluttered closed as he pushed your breasts together to give them a mutual kiss, your nails still stroking his scalp. "Tell me to stop. If you... dislike what I'm doing."

You gave a whimpery, quiet moan, concealed barely between your lips. "Never."

With the sun lowering on one side of his face, Damian wrapped his mouth around one nipple and ran his tongue in a circle around the bud. He popped off long enough to question, "Never?" before giving your other nipple the same treatment.

You gasped, the sound needy and shuddering. No one had ever given your breasts so much attention before. "Not ever."

Pulling back, Damian took a moment to admire his handiwork. You lay panting and blushing on his bed, mesh heart bra pushed over your breasts and Damian's spit shining on your delicate areolas. Your hands opened in a childish grabby motion and you pouted for a kiss. When Damian gave it to you, applying all of his love to your lips, you giggled infectiously and hooked your legs around his hips.

Out of all the features Damian loved in you, your hips and thighs were his favorite. Your kiss deepened. Your tongue wet his lips and then lapped against his own, only to be chased back into your mouth where Damian licked and sucked your kiss to completion. It gave his hands plenty of time to work, so he did as he always fantasized: Damian took your knees and pinned them apart on the bed.

This tilted up the whole front of your hips and flushed your belly to your ribs. For his viewing pleasure, your spread knees exposed the soft line of your pussy through your mesh thong. It was even prettier than Damian had imagined—just like his fantasies, your center was flushed and petite, but new to his dreams with the glistening shape of his girlfriend's slick drooling around her legs.

Damian's mouth watered. "You are very aroused..."

You squealed, "Damian!"

Smugly, knowing how much you loved how bold he was being, Damian smirked, "You _said_ anything."

Your hands flew up to cover your face, toes curling in. Damian kissed your forehead. This seemed to pull you out of her shyness a little. "May I pleasure you, beloved?"

To his delight, you peaked between your fingers at him and squeaked, "...Please?"

At the request, Damian lowered himself onto his knees. Just looking at your pussy made his dick pulse in his boxers. The kissing and touching helped a lot, but it was the shape of his beloved even through mesh heart fabric that really spurred on his erection. With a nod of permission, Damian pushed your panties aside with a thumb and closed his mouth around your heat for the first time.

As pleasurable as the kissing of your skin was, Damian's tongue lapping up your slick had three times the pleasure. You shuddered and mewled under him, hands jumping up to run through his hair as Damian's tongue fucked you, licking and slurping up your slick. Sometimes he would pause to suck the cream off your thighs to drive you crazy. But Damian's mouth would always return to your pussy, where his thumbs would spread your lips and his tongue would invade the heat between your legs. Every buck of your hips sent shocks through the core of his cock.

"Please, please..." You gasped, head thrown back on the bed in ecstasy, "Yes, fuck... feels so good... Dam—Damian, oh, fuck yes!"

Maybe it was because it was your first time, or maybe Damian's talents extended to pussy-eating, but your muscles tensed then unspooled back into the sheets in a messy orgasm. That didn't mean he was through. Damian licked constantly at your cum, his tongue swirling around your clit and gulping down every pulse from your sensitive heat. When you'd finally relaxed into the memory foam, Damian's entire lower face glistened with your slick.

He licked his lips, gasping for breath. Trying to think of something clever to say, Damian smiled at you with his teeth. "You tasted wonderful, Y/N. I... appreciated the dessert."

Just like he had your first time giving him a blowjob, you had thrown both arms over your face and breathed deeply into them. Damian gave you a moment to breathe and wiped his face down with a washcloth.

Behind him, you quietly murmured, "Holy shit."

"Thank you," Damian said, "I think."

"You think?" You echoed, laughing to yourself. You were sitting up when he turned back, eyes intense but honeyed with love. "Get over here, boy wonder. There's no way I'm waiting anymore."

The nickname sent a familiar shock up his spine. Hypnotized to stare, Damian felt his cock twinge at the sight of you. His eyes were drawn by a finger pushing your hair behind your ears, then as that same finger led the rest down your chest, over your soft belly and between your legs. Both thumbs took the strings of your thong in one pluck, pulling them down your legs like an enchantress casting a spell on his composure. If he let his dick do the thinking, then Damian would've sworn that your eyes glowed with mischief.

In his trance Damian had wandered inward. Your eyes met with irresistible magic, and as if commanded, Damian fell to one knee to guide your panties off her ankles. With every inch that it passed over your skin, Damian peppered the kind of worshipful kisses that pressed his nose into your thighs and calves. He was so magnetized to you that control over his hands had been passed to Damian's lust. Reverent, they cupped and squeezed and caressed your sweet-tasting skin, until both palms were cupping your face like a kitten.

"My patience has lasted, Y/N," Damian murmured. Suddenly shy, he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. "We have both waited a long time. Are you... ready?"

Even if you were palming his dick through his pants, your expression bled with adoration. "Yeah. Yeah, Damian, I'm ready."

Damian assured you that he felt the same by covering the upper half of your body with his and closing your lips in a kiss that relaxed each joint in your spines. Contact with other people was always something that Damian harbored a love for. Touching you was especially wonderful, usually cozy or warm, but the skin-to-skin press of your breasts to Damian's bare chest sparked a new sense of closeness between you. It was as if your nerves were Damian's nerves. It was like you had melted into one person, like your hearts had combined into one. This wasn't a feeling singular to Damian, either: your hands came under his shoulders to fasten you together around his back.

You moaned into Damian's mouth. He lifted his brow far enough away from yours to hear you whisper into his lips, "Gonna make love to me, boy wonderful? Gonna make me feel so good?"

Damian growled, "Gonna make you mine."

Something in his tone in his words reanimated you. A long shiver rolled down your spine, and with it, your hands unclasped from his back, wove down the center line between his shoulder-blades and dragged off the clinging band of his boxers. You moaned at the same time when Damian's heavy cock smacked onto your belly.

Nervousness had Damian pulling his hips away from yours, but you needily dug your nails into his sides and dragged him in again. Just to be sure, you gave him a tongue-filled kiss to distract him long enough to knot your legs around his back, effectively trapping Damian on top of you.

"Can't escape me," you smiled.

Damian gasped, nose pressed against yours. "Don't want to."

Your kiss grew heavier. It was the kind of kiss one could only share if he was imagining fucking you senseless, your tongues dragging in and out of your mouths, panting recklessly, lips popping together between mewls and groans of delight. Just looking into your eyes as Damian pulled away from making out told him everything you were thinking: _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Readying himself, Damian completely closed his arms under your back and seared your ribs together. In your neck Damian could smell your shampoo and perfume. If he laid there long enough Damian could even feel your heartbeat vibrating with intensity. Locked in the loveliest embrace, Damian knew he wanted to spend his life with you.

You spit on her palm. Damian closed his eyes as you took his cock in hand and pumped it between them, hearing his moans pool into your ear. Your gasp chorused with his when you worked together to press him into your slick, warm, inviting cunt. It had to have only been an inch or two of Damian, but it was the most magnificent sensation—so pleasurable that your head tossed back onto the bed and Damian's anxiety melted away.

He waited for you to seize. He waited for something bad to happen. But all you did was moan Damian's name, toes curling, back arching, pussy tensing around his length.

"Okay, okay," you whispered, biting down hard on your lip. "G-go. Give it to me."

At first, Damian was so turned on that he couldn't properly take in words. Then he remembered himself, and remembered that he was supposed to make love to the girl of his dreams, which made Damian combust just as much as the sex did. Slowly, Damian sunk his cock into your heat.

Looking at you, Damian would have thought that he wouldn't be able to fit. Now, filling out your pussy with more and more of his cock, Damian could tell that you were made for him. Instead of a hiss of pain, low coos of pleasure were moaned into Damian's ear. Finally, he hit the hilt of you at the same time your pelvis met his, filling you end to end, Damian completing you.

Your nails pressed into the top of his back. "Mmm. So big. So fuckin' big."

Damian admired your ability to be able to speak since his throat had stopped working a while ago. His brain was still up somewhere high because of the pleasure... And the idea that Damian was really having sex with the love of his life. Under him, his beloved was warm and breathing shallow, mewling at the sensation. Your heels pressed hard into the dimples in his back, which Damian figured meant that you wanted him to move.

Not one to deny you of anything, Damian held you closer and began to make love to you.

Your pussy squeezed his cock tight, milking every drop of pre-cum out of him as Damian pulled back. Your slick made liquid noises as he pressed through, squelching and popping, all around about a million times better than Damian's lone fantasies. Damian was slow at first—he didn't want to overwhelm you—but the pleasure begged him to go faster.

So did you. Lips pressed into his shoulder, groaning, "More. More! Oh, fuck..."

On command, Damian slid all the way inside you again, then back out again, his cock pressed and pulled on in the most perfect way. The slick walls of your cunt were at perfect capacity. It was beyond pleasurable, lightning rolling up his spine with every thrust, not one nerve missed in the onslaught of pleasure. And what was even better was how loved he felt. Your hand had moved into his hair to stroke Damian's scalp, constantly whispering how much you loved him, how good he felt, how badly you wanted this.

Damian tilted his head and kissed you deeply. He trapped you in the kiss as he picked up his pace, grinding hard into your core, fucking her with his heavy cock, tasting every moan of yours on his tongue like liquid candy. All at once, your shoulders seized and all the nerves in your pussy pulsed around him at once. Damian could feel your cum slickening your pussy even more, making his last tentative thrusts more fluid.

"You okay?" Damian asked.

You put a hand on his chest, biting your lip and closing your eyes. "So fuckin' good. So good. Keep goin', keep goin'..."

As requested, Damian palmed your back with his nails and then drilled his cock as deep as it would go in your sensitive pussy, slamming in again and again, drowning in the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. You moaned helplessly underneath him, brow pressed to his and whining deliciously against his mouth. He kissed you hard, covering the mewls of his name and swallowing them as he thrust into you mercilessly, pelvis grinding into yours to ensure that his cock hit you all the way in. Sparks seemed to fly as Damian's manhood stuffed you full.

And all at once, the fuel in Damian died. His hips gave a stuttery jerk inside his girlfriend, and under him, you cried out. The arms barricading you under him relaxed first, and the rest of Damian came down on top of you in a reactor meltdown that just touched down from critical. All that filled the room was the sound of labored breathing.

Embarrassed by his performance, Damian hid his face in your hug. He'd been so into it that he hadn't even considered if you had finished again. As he embraced you, Damian could hear the shallowness of your breath even out to calmer sighs, which was probably a good sign. You seemed to enjoy having a warm pressure on top of you anyway. Like Damian expected, you had sorted herself a lot earlier than him and immediately kissed at his exposed skin. Soft lips puckered over his tensed neckline, shoulder and jaw, while both of your hands massaged at his sweating back.

"Nng," Damian said.

You pressed your nose into his neck. He listened to the sound of your breathing, hoping you could feel the happiness pouring off him. Just when Damian was working up the courage to ask you how he'd done, you gave him an answer.

A tiny, precious sob was stifled by his neck.

Damian lifted himself off her immediately. "Y/N?"

Warm tears washed down both sides of your face, falling straight down into your hair or weaving into the smile lines worked into your cheeks. Damian had never seen you cry this way. Your entire face was shaped around the happiest smile he'd ever seen. You leaned up to stroke his face, sobbing to yourself as you touched him.

"That was amazing," you choked. "I could feel how much you love me. I l-love you so much. I really do."

"Yeah," Damian said. He tried to sound supportive and sweet when he kissed your hand. "Yeah. That was superb, Y/N. You were... mind-blowing."

You sat up, so Damian got out of your way and sat down next to you. You didn't want him to go too far, though, because immediately you had wrapped your arms around him again.

"Yeah. So amazing," You whispered. "I can't... I can't believe we did that. I can't believe I just had sex with the love of my life."

Damian smiled to himself. "You're telling me."

You moved up onto your knees so you could have more room to hug him, and you did so with both arms around his neck and your ragged breaths drawn into his chest. Damian kissed your shoulder and your entire body melted into him.

"I love you so much," you whimpered. You wiped her tears on her wrist. "I'm sorry. I'm ruining the moment, Dami."

Really, Damian felt more in love with you than ever. You were so strong and powerful and uncompromising as Batgirl, and yet also this version of you, the girl that cried in his arms because she was so happy to be intimate with him for the first time.

"Me too. And don't worry—not at all," Damian mumbled into your hair. After a moment of holding each other, he asked, "Does that satisfy your need to try new things for tonight?"

By now, the sun had mostly set on your bedroom. Through the thin light of the window, you could see Damian's eyes swimming with affection. One big piano-player hand cupped your cheek and cleaned it of tears.

You laughed, "Hell yeah."

And as you laid there that night, curled up in one another's arms and more vulnerable than ever, you knew that you'd remember that moment for the rest of your life.


	2. Lord Damian

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! A friend of mine requested League of Assassins Damian, so... league of assassins Damian time! Reader is, again, feminine and Damian's right-hand lady. Because Dami was raised by the League full-time in this au, he'll be a bit of a "bad guy." But in the sexy way! Only plot in this is to add to the sexiness. Enjoy :)

You came home from the siege exhausted, drained, and a lot of other tired-sounding words. It took a lot of work to handle the beta squad of the Demon's Head. Damian himself had specifically requested that you take your squad to the biggest collection of poachers on your mission. Your master hated poachers, but he had a special hatred for those that killed for fun instead of money, just like the squad he'd had you take care of.

When you returned to the stronghold after the execution, you could tell just how infuriated Damian was. Under the long, black and green robes of his armor, his back muscle tensed wildly.

The other soldiers weren't as perceptive as you. One of them turned to his master, "My lord, would you like to hear a debriefing of—"

"No," Damian scowled. "Do not insult me. I do not wish to hear another _word_ of our enemy. Is that understood?"

In the full jet, the other soldiers brought with you gave scattered echoes of, "Yes, my lord."

Damian was a cordial leader. He didn't have the age or soul-rotting bitterness of his grandfather, so he stepped out of the hangar first and nodded respectfully to each one of his soldiers as they walked past him. You dutifully took his side. Since his grandfather's time, the number of soldiers you'd had as a girl had tripled. Damian's lack of cruelty and kindness made the League much stronger.

That was one of a thousand reasons why you admired him. Out of all his advisors, generals and servants, you were the only one allowed to call him _Damian_. It wasn't even because he had known you since you were children, but because he trusted you. As a boy, he'd promised you over and over how the two of you would be wed one day, and how it would be the two of you that fixed the world together. He was a leader before he was yours, which had left your relationship undefined and confusing. Were you his? Maybe, but...

Damian disappeared to his quarters shortly after the mission. You took a shower before going to see him, and dismissed the guards at his bedroom and replaced them. Just as you did, the door to Damian's bedroom pushed open from the inside.

"L-Lady Y/N," gasped one of the servant girls. Her hair was just as messy as her companion's was, also like the rumpled clothes they wore. You never saw any servants up here unless Damian was gone and his room was empty for cleaning.

You scowled at the two. Given that you were one of the best assassins in the entire compound, the two women gathered their belongings in their hands and scampered off with their tails between their legs. You could have sworn one of them was holding her own bra.

When you pushed open the door, Damian's back was to you. He was reclined low in his favorite chair before the fireplace, skin glittering with sweat. One of his hands flexed absently as he examined it in thought. The only light in the room was the fire, which lit his face with handsome shadows and emphasized the muscle in his arms, back and neck like they'd been carved there by a sculptor. You remembered how small he was as a boy. Now, as a man, Damian was tall, broad, and built like an adonis.

"Having fun?" You said, sour. You noticed that he was in nothing but his silk boxers, which had only recently been pulled back over his hips.

He paused. Stiffened. Your anger seemed to make him realize something, and a deep blush settled over his face as Damian contemplated you.

"Hm," said Damian. He brushed a thumb along his chin. Even distracted, he had handsome deadliness to him. A sharpness that made your belly melt into molten iron. "You sound upset."

"I will always be faithful to you, my lord," you told him, voice just an inch away from shaky. You tried to find a way to tell him how you felt without giving yourself away. "Isn't it unwise to bed any random girl you find? _Especially_ servant girls?"

"Your envy makes you arrogant, L/N," Damian told you, voice as calm as an undisturbed lake surface. "I find sex as a useful manner of de-stressing. If you consider _oral_ sex as intimate as the full thing, at least."

So _that's_ what was going on here. You couldn't help but boil with jealousy. Damian wasn't much of a womanizer, nor was he much of a romantic anyway. To you, he was the awkward dork who still couldn't figure out romantic attraction. To the people that served under him, especially the servant girls, Damian was a perfect specimen. You could always pick up on their whispered conversations about them. The two that had just been in here were probably stumbling off to share their story with the others.

He lifted two fingers in a single pull motion toward you, barely bringing his wrist off the armrest. Even if you were angry, you couldn't deny his orders and stepped forward into the firelight.

Damian quirked his lip. When he looked at you, his eyes were sharp and mean with arousal, glimmering in the amber light like a pool of starving sharks. "Good girl," he said, just to get under your nerves. "Why are you so unsettled by the events of my sexual life?"

 _Because you promised I'd be yours_ , you longed to say. _Because you promised we were meant to fix the world together_.

Sensing your stirring thoughts, Damian plucked his glass of tea off the coffee table, laid back, spread his legs and sipped as he admired you. The muscles of his stomach rippled as he moved. "They are but a tool to me. You need not be upset."

"But I..." As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt foolish. You were supposed to be an untouchable assassin. A myth. Nothing but a story old oilmen talked about in bars. You were supposed to be a tool, too, but Damian's words had implied the opposite... That you were valuable to him, as you'd always wanted to be.

"I felt deeply for you since I was a boy," said Damian. "You know this. And, until this moment, I didn't see that you reciprocated. I saw your acts of loyalty as acts of loyalty for my cause, not for me."

Damian stood. He put down his tea. He cupped your elbows and stared at you. And you saw it then. In Damian's eyes, there was incredible loneliness, and it'd been there long before those girls had come into his room. They were just one more way that he'd escaped his unreturned feelings for you.

"Of course they were for _you_ ," you scowled. "I-I... It was _you_ who lead me to the League. It was you who made me believe our philosophy. Before I ever loved the League's dreams of a perfect earth, I..." You looked away from him. "I loved you."

"Oh, my lovely girl," Damian sighed. He tenderly stroked a lock of hair from your face. "I apologize for being so foolish. I love you too. I believed that this could never be possible, so I fulfilled myself with girls that looked like you, talked like you... Those two servant girls? They had left with such embarrassment because I had said _your_ name instead of theirs."

That made you smirk. You ran your hands over his bare biceps and leaned in, teasing him, "Still... two girls? That's quite greedy of you."

Damian studied your lips and whispered: "Not one woman could satisfy me like you. Not two, not three, not a million."

You lifted one doubtful eyebrow. "My lord, you and I have never been intimate before. How could you possibly...?"

"Because I have dreamt it," Damian's hands moved from your elbows to your ribs to your hips, dragging you closer to him. Just touching you that way seemed to energize him. He spoke quietly and passionately, wetting his lips as he neared your face. "I have fantasized about making you mine... bedding you, yes, but marrying you, too."

You couldn't believe this was happening. After years of standing at Damian's side, defending him and protecting him, he had finally seen the meaning behind your longing stares. Maybe you were nervous, but there was no way you were letting this moment escape. The firelight was too romantic and he was too wonderful, too beautiful, to not fall in love with all over again.

When Damian took in a breath, you clasped his shoulders and dragged him into a long kiss. Underneath your hands his shoulders were thick, strong, and stiff with shock. Your body pressing into his melded the two of you together. Suddenly, his arms cinched around your middle and Damian's nails dug crescents into your back with delight. Kissing him on its own was amazing, but being kissed back was downright euphoric. Damian's lips pried yours apart, opening up your kiss to gasps and moans and the popping sound of your lips pulling apart. Soon, his tongue lavished yours with gusto, letting himself fall victim to his fantasies of you.

It was such a deep kiss that it felt like Damian was carrying you. His arms around your back dared to take you off the floor, and his lips urged you even deeper into his embrace. You kissed for so long and so impressively that his lips were swollen once you pulled off.

Damian's eyes were black with lust, and his chest heaved with each breath from the intensity of your kissing. He brushed over his lips with his thumb to cleanse it of spit, looked at the shine it made on his fingertip, then raked his gaze across you as if he could drag off your clothes with a look. When you weren't gaping in shock at the look on his face, you were swallowing down drool at the sight of the heavy bulge in his silk boxers.

"Up here." Damian tapped your chin up with his knuckle, and chuckled to himself. "You are my most loyal general. My most faithful confidant. Listen to me, and understand that these are orders: I'm going to bed you tonight. I'm going to do with you as I want. And you're going to mine from this night on."

You shot Damian a dark, seductive look. The armor you were used to wearing was suddenly bulky and too warm. "Only if I'm the _only_ woman of yours from this night on."

"As you wish," Damian smiled smugly, "Lady Al Ghul."

He didn't give your blush a moment to settle before he was clawing at your armor. Never before had you gotten it off so fast. Damian distracted you with long, tender kisses, licking at your tongue and nipping at your bottom lip as he undid straps. You sighed through your teeth as he dropped to his knees to slither free your dagger sheath, and tried not to yelp when he threw off your chestplate and purred at the sight of your zipper. As soon as he'd dragged it past your collar, Damian was sucking and growling into the hot skin at the bend of your shoulder. He did all of it with a dangerous amount of desire pooling from his words.

"So beautiful," he would whisper. "All mine," he'd hiss. "Perfect," Damian smirked.

You tried to contribute by taking your boots off, by Damian was practically lifting you out of them by the time he'd gotten your zipper under your naval. Even if you'd worn fancy underwear, which you hadn't, he didn't seem to care for it. Damian hooked his hand into the front of your bra and tore it off, only to drop the fabric harmlessly over his shoulder as if it were nothing.

"Damian!" You squealed.

Damian's voice was guttural and snarl-like, but somehow, he managed to look loving and protective. "Is that how you address the Demon's Head, L/N?"

"No, sir," you swallowed.

He smiled venomously at the name. Then, he peeled your undersuit down your arms to expose your chest. When you were free to the air, Damian cupped your ribs, gave you another dirty smile, and then sucked and kissed at your breasts like they were the most precious thing he'd ever touched. Every where he kissed, he slathered your skin with kisses and bites. You were marked up like a scoreboard. His warm tongue drew slick lines around your nipples. If that didn't make you moan, then the hard bulge pressed against you definitely did. All you could manage to do was hang on tight by his neck.

"You don't know how long I've dreamt of this," Damian panted. He finally lifted his head to confront you, so close and so intimately that your noses pressed together. The commanding voice you loved so much had been traded for a whisper meant only for you to hear. "Your tenacity, your skill, your beauty... all of it has enraptured me."

You had spending most of this time stunned into moans of shock. This still felt like a dream. You cupped both sides of Damian's face just to prove he was real, and that you weren't about to wake up alone in bed with your panties soaked through. "I can't believe this is really happening. I've wanted this for a long time too, Damian."

"I mean," your eyes dragged slowly down his body, " _sir_."

Damian's expression darkened. He gave you a long, solid kiss that promised that this was real, took the sides of your undersuit and tore them down your hips. "Hn," he smirked. "Prove it to me. Get on your knees."

Holding Damian's hips, you swallowed to yourself and dropped to the floor with your calves underneath you. The rug in front of the hearth was cozy underneath your legs. His manhood was just an inch or two from your face, hidden only by Damian's boxers, even if how big he was made it hard to hide. You'd fantasized about servicing him this way, but the look in Damian's eyes seem to say that it wasn't a service. It was an act of love.

"Not going to sit down?" You teased. "You might need to. I'm told I'm very talented."

Damian admired you. Below him, your eyes were tinted orange by the firelight and your skin glowed with beauty. The shape of your thighs excited him. His mouth watered at the sight of you, so his touches to your hair and face were more loving than usual. "I sat for the servants because I was bored. I stand for you now because I... I am excited."

Your nails pushed into the waistband of his underwear. To tease him, you lowered his boxers with an exagerated slowness, first hooking your fingers on the fabric and bringing it down until the base of his manhood curved free. You didn't touch him yet, but whispered close to his skin so he could feel it. You practically watched the shiver spider-web across Damian's nerves.

"I'm better than they'll ever be, you know," you said, letting your jealousy leak into your voice. "You were right when you said that no other person will be able to pleasure you like I will. When those servant girls or anyone else think of you, I'll be the only one able to give those dreams a reality. This," you gave his base the slightest kiss, "is all mine."

Out of all the things you'd said to Damian, this one aroused him the most. Under your hands you felt his length twitch, and his expression filled out with hot, body-shaking want. "TT," he clicked, "Then show me."

You took the challenge with a glint in your eye. Your gaze never left Damian's as you drew his boxers to his ankles and wrapped your hand around his heavy base. To no one's surprise, Damian was well-endowed, with a long, handsome cock decorated with perfect veins. The dribble of thick cum rolling down his head told you exactly what you were getting into, but it only made your legs press together in anticipation.

"Too big for the princess to handle?" Damian joked. The snarl in his tone sent shocks up your spine.

"No, my lord," you said. "I'm just... Master..."

Damian raised his eyebrows and gave you the cold smile only you recognised was full of affection. He tapped up your chin. "I'll be gentle."

You gave his thumb a kiss. "What if I don't want you to be gentle?"

"Then expect to be unable to walk tomorrow," Damian smirked. His fingers combed through your hair, "My pretty little slut."

Your face exploded with a blush. Still, you liked the nickname a little too much to tell him not to use it, so instead you turned to prove the worth of your new name.

Damian hissed at the way you nuzzled into his dick, exposing your tongue to latch onto the underside with satisfaction. Damian gave a quiet moan in reply. Eager to get more from him, you licked and kissed your way to his tip, which you easily dropped into your mouth. Your slick heat was just wide enough to fit him. Even if it wasn't, you would have still forced all of it down your throat with how delicious he tasted. For now, you suckled innocently on the first three inches of cockmeat in your mouth—only the dark shadow under your brow gave away your real intentions.

It felt amazing; Damian was groaning so much that his vocal chords were fried. His small praises of _fuck_ and _hell_ did wonders on your motivation. When you'd properly warmed him up, you took his hands and threaded them into your hair. Behind it you looked twice as seductive, eyes closed in concentration and pleasure, lips puffy and abused from the beating Damian's lips had given you earlier. A gleam in your eyes assured him that you were ready for it. Taking the soft plumes of your hair as a handle, Damian pushed his cock as far between your silky lips as you could handle. Every throb of Damian's cock was well-received with a hearty swallow.

"You _are_ very talented," Damian smothered you in dickmeat, until your nose was flat against the beginning of his abdominals. "Perhaps I will take advantage of your talents in the future."

You nodded on his cock excitedly. Liking his roughness, you gurgled on the ten inches stuffed in your mouth and bubbled up grateful spit. Damian could imagine that it was hard to remain attractive when deepthroating, but you always excelled where others didnt—your eyes left his only to flutter shut with delight, and your shoulders and back would shiver when Damian played rough. He released you so you could breathe.

"Too rough," Damian said, but you shook your head.

You nuzzled your cheek into the spit-covered side of Damian's cock. "Not rough enough. How am I?"

In a daze, Damian mumbled with a smile, "Satisfactory."

Displeasure pulled coyly in the center of your eyebrows. Wrapping a hand around the bottom of his dick, you gave Damian two firm pumps and smiled into his length, "Guess I'll have to try harder."

Redoubling your efforts meant that Damian's coherence was completely lost. You slurped and sucked and moaned around his cock, so covered in slick that it slid with ease into your mouth and against your face. You smacked your tongue with it and smiled at him.

"I'm so aroused, my lord," you whispered. You wrapped your mouth around his cockhead, slurping and running your tongue along it. Your hips pumped needily at nothing, needing him. "I love doing this for you..."

A sharp tremble flicked up the rod of his cock. Knowing he was close, Damian collected your hair and popped you off his dick. He gave you an intense look under the flicker of the fire and commanded, "Open."

You did, tongue splayed. Immediately, Damian crushed you all the way down to his pelvis, stuffing your mouth with nearly a foot of cock. Your moan was stuttered apart by his thrusting. Held in place by his hands, Damian pulled back his hips and snapped them in again, fucking your warm pressure-filled throat. His pace built and soon lost control. Helpless, you closed your eyes and let Damian's slick cock funnel in and out of your mouth, slamming in again and again, puffing out your cheeks with every blow.

When Damian finally pulled out, a line of cum came with him and drapped prettily across your heaving chest. You dropped back onto your hands for support and swallowed the load with grace.

"Oh, you think you're done?" Damian smiled.

"I'd hope not," you smiled.

With one hand extended to you, Damian nodded toward the bed. You took his hand, which was warm and gentle, and followed him backward and into the lush canopy your master always slept in. Damian sat at the edge of the bed and used your entwined hands to pull you into his arms. As ruthless and dangerous as the Demon's Head was, his jade eyes melted with a peculiar softness for you. For the first time, you could truly see in his face how badly he wished to be with you, and felt a rush if love appear in your chest as he stroked your face. "My beloved," he said, "allow me to... repay you for your hard work."

You settled against him. "What do you mean?"

"I intend to give you the best night of your life, L/N. I'm starving," Damian dug his nails into your bottom and thighs, breathing deep. "Care to remedy that?"

Instead of answering, you smiled to yourself and went up on your knees to get off of his lap. Damian stopped you. After admiring your legs as he took off your sopping panties, he said, "Not on your back," he fell down onto his, "like this."

It looked like he'd never tried this before. Your skin was flush from the blowjob you'd given him, but now also his flirting, and it added a fluttery quality to your limbs. Where you were frozen with disbelief, Damian was as certain as ever. He helped you settle each of your knees aside his head and spread your legs around his face with lustful delight. Two of Damian's thickest fingers slickened themselves at your entrance, which quivered above Damian's mouth.

"Comfortable?" Damian smirked.

Your hands shyly carded into his hair to hold him in place, gently rocking down and into his touch. "Mnn."

"I'll take that as a yes."

From this angle, you were astounding. Your thighs caught the light and glistened, your breasts heaved with your breath, your center trembled with each hot puff of air from Damian's mouth. Spread apart, Damian imagined your womanhood would have normally been pink and ripe-looking, but between your trembling legs it was even more beautiful than Damian could imagine. A quick kiss just above your core made you shudder, and Damian soon got to work.

Taking your ass in both hands, Damian used his thumbs to spread your lips and exposed the beautiful flower-like middle of your pleasure. Just to test, Damian's mouth latched onto your clit and sucked. The hands in his hair tensed. Your back went shock-straight and a moan poured out of you like a shotgun blast. Figuring that was a good sign, Damian continued, licking one salacious line up the center of your pussy and then a curved one beside it. He kept going, linking straight and curved lines, and after the fourth pause you realized—Damian was _spelling_ his _name_.

"You arrogant–" you moan-laughed. " _Master_..."

Damian finished the N with another kiss. Then he really invested himself, sucking and slurping and licking at your cunt, pushing the blunt of his finger-pads against the good spot inside you. He rubbed there with merciless persistence. In a fight, Damian was a beast—now, you realized he was precisely the same way with sex, and that might just be the hottest thing about him. The flat front of Damian's tongue fucked the slippery front of your pussy like butter. All over, your nerves shook like electricity through a spiderweb. Curses poured out of your mouth with your drool. When you pushed yourself further down onto him, Damian just fisted his hands deeper around the flesh of your ass and lapped faster.

Being capable as a love making partner was one thing, but being a talented oralist suddenly checked all of your boxes. And Damian was good. Never slowing down, never once stopping, Damian's tongue shaped you out and gladly slurped up the last onslaught of your cum. He hummed against your pussy with smug satisfaction.

Gasping for breath, you dropped her hands into the sheet and tried to recover. Below you, Damian patiently sucked the flavor off his fingers.

"Mmm," Lord Damian smirked to himself. "You taste excellent, my love. I will definitely be enjoying _this_ dinner more often..."

All you could do was wobble off of him and bend down into the bed. The sheets were soothing and cold against your sweaty, hot skin, relaxing your neck and arms so you bowed into them and gasped for breath. Each layer of silk smelled like Damian. Even just that kept you turned on. Then he was touching you again, caressing his hands up and down your sides from above. Loving and sweet, your master kissed the top of your back and squeezed at your sides and ass, pulling and kneading at the flesh like it was the last time you'd ever have sex.

He crooned low in your ear, "I believe it's time for dessert, my Y/N. Will you have me?"

You felt Damian's nose nuzzle into the line your spine made down your back. Falling in love with him, you begged, "Yes. _Yes_. Please, Damian, make me yours."

Before you could move, Damian dragged you back by the hips and affixed his pelvis to your ass. One of his hands took a bunch of your hair and slammed your face sideways into the pillow, leaving your spread legs open for his taking. Damian's roughness only made you wetter. You were moaning even before the Demon's Head touched your entrance, but the way he pinned down your front half and fucked his tip inside you opened up your lungs in a way that nearly let your soul escape.

"Fuck, Damian," you said, too far gone for formalities. "More, more—mmm, fuck."

"I'm barely a quarter in and you're already squealing my name," Damian sneered. He chuckled in a way that was more like a growl, more gutteral. "Understand that I'm going to fuck you with such passion that you will never want another man, for any attempt to mimic how I make you feel would be downright pitiful." Damian sunk in his cock a few more inches, and the stretch was so good that you whimpered with want. He smiled, "Swear your loyalty to me and I will give you everything you desire and more."

"I'm yours I'm yours I'm yours," you gasped. Damian gave a harsh buck of his hips that made you practically whine, so you closed your eyes and promised, "Nnng fuck... I swear myself to you... I-I swear loyalty to the Demon's Head... to the House of Al Ghul."

"Good girl," Damian praised. "You look so beautiful... spread out on my bed... begging for my pleasure... Would you like me to be rough with you, beloved? Would you like me to be gentle?"

Damian's cock sunk deeper and deeper within you with every word, centimeter by centimeter, drawing out the experience until you'd remember it for the rest of your life. You were so wet that Damian could have gone to the hilt all in one thrust, but he deliberately filled you out at the pace of time. There was no way he wasn't enjoying himself. Damian's voice was full of a vile smile that you couldn't see, and he mouthed at your back in a daze, no doubt imagining all the other ways he could fuck you senseless. When it seemed like you'd stay in the position he wanted, Damian's hands seared to your hips and held them with a grip that would bruise.

"Rough... so rough," you moaned, "Fuck me, master..."

"Tt," he clicked. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

You twisted the bedding in your hands. "Yes... Yes... Give it to me."

"Anything you would like," Damian's voice held a lethal satisfaction, "my perfect little slut."

At first, you thought that his version of roughness was not like yours at all. Damian gave two gentle, testing thrusts, moaning deep in his throat with the push and pull grip of your cunt around his length. Every drag pumped more and more of your cum around Damian, until it was pouring down the insides of your thighs and where Damian's pelvis met your heat. It made every slap of his skin to your ass twice as wet. You could have cum to the sound alone of Damian fucking you, the pop and squelch of his cock rolling through your slick, the growl-like moans Damian made, your own desperate squeals and whimpers for more.

Then, he really gave it his all. The first couple thrusts has just been to experiment. As soon as he found a pace that the two of your liked (read as: Damian beating so hard into you that your ass was red and you were bouncing off his cock with every jerk), Damian stuck with it. His dick felt even bigger in your pussy. Every throb, tense and twitch touched every nerve inside you. The harsh drag of Damian's breathing only made you feel sluttier. You hoped that those servant girls would come back, just so they could see Damian railing you into the sheets like he was trying to drill you through the mattress.

All your attempt to push back onto his dick were received with praise. Damian felt your thighs clap back against his, bent over you with every arm, back and abdominal muscle flexed, and poured the dirtiest groan into your ear. "E-excellent," Damian snarled. "Oh, _fuck_ yes, my wonderful cumdump... l-love it when I fuck you, don't you?"

And you _adored_ it. Damian's hands dig into your sides in preparation. You could have been there for an hour or more, taking his cock as far as it would go, pussy aching with sensitivity and closeness, but one of you would break eventually. Of course that one was you. Between Damian's growling, hip-bruising, and relentless fucking, you felt the spool inside you hit its end. The wire snapped with Damian inside of you. Your cry cut off in your throat like a vocal cord had been torn, but Damian kept going. He pumped his cock in and out of you with the decreasing roll of his waist, dutifully drilling your throbbing pussy and kissing your neck and hair in worship.

"Well, well done, my love," Damian grunted. He inhaled hard through his nose, " _So_ _beautiful... so perfect.._."

The orgasm sent you spinning into another plane of being, so Damian's was just the cherry on top. He buried his nose in your shoulder blades and gave short, throat-torn moans, beating into you, devouring the sound of your yelps and cries of oversensitivity. With a lasting jerk, his hips gave a shudder and he sheathed his cock all the way in. Loads and loads of cum poured from his heavy dick, and you shuddered there together as his seed pumped its way out of your pussy and between your bodies on the bed.

For a full minute, all either of you could do was breathe laboriously into the sheets.

"My lord... That was... that was..." you mumbled.

"Damian," he said.

"Huh?"

"I have told you that many times. But I-I do intend to make you my wife," Damian promised. "My wife should never call me the same names an underling would. You are... you are more to me than that."

You wrapped yourself around the arm that had embraced you, loving the comforting warmth of Damian on top of you. "And so are you. I... I truly love you, Damian. I couldn't ask for a greater future husband."

Damian turned your bodies so that he could give you the long, meaningful kiss of a king to his queen. When it had ended and you allowed your eyes to flutter open, Damian removed himself from you and sat up.

"Well?" He said. "Are you ready?"

You raised an eyebrow. "For what, exactly?"

"Sweet girl," He ran a hand down your shin and grinned dangerously. "Do you really think that I was through with you? Now, on your knees again. I would appreciate a _reward_ for all of my hard work..."


	3. Of Cold Caves and Warm Med-Bays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello guys! thank you so much for the wonderful reception of the first two bits of this fic, both on here and on AO3! this is a request for a civilian S/O of Damian's post-Joker attack. I wrote it so Joker won't be included, just mentioned, so carry on into this nice little world of smutty times peacefully. Basically some hurt/comfort :) - uncouth

Your face still hurt from the smiling. When you'd read about people's experiences online, they didn't really talk about the smiling. Probably because it was one of the worst parts. Two days in and it had finally worn off of your face, but just because it wasn't there anymore didn't mean that it didn't want to be.

Staring at the TV didn't help. Staring out the window didn't help. The only thing that had helped was stuffing your face into the couch and biting your lips closed so hard it hurt, but it kept the smile down, at least. Damian had tried turning on some podcast in the kitchen to soothe you, but even so quiet... the laughter...

The penthouse was cold. Late summer heat made the city below the wall-wide windows foggy, turning the sky black and gray with smoke and mist. You would never understand how Bruce and Selina could live in that dusty old Manor so far away. The moment you and Damian were old enough to live on your own, you dove right for the penthouse. Damian liked it because it was where he and Dick operated in their Batman and Robin days, and you liked it because Damian did.

Now, in the evening sunlight, the main floor of the house was lit with shadow tones of red and orange. Sweat slipped down your neck. Even the lazy light from the sun was warm enough for you, so you rolled toward it and kneaded your knuckles into your face.

No matter what you did, the ache was still there.

It wasn't like you were sick. Your head didn't hurt, you didn't have a stomach ache. You might be a little tired from the crying, maybe, but the only leftover symptom you had was the chills. Batman's antidote had annihilated any trace of the Joker toxin in your system. What it couldn't do was get rid of the memories or the phantom-pain of the muscles in your face pulling apart, but Damian wasn't going to leave you without a solution for that, either.

"Hey," something cold was pressed to your temple. You took it, and when you peeled your face off the couch cushion to see what it was, a plain white wrapper crinkled in your hand. Damian's warm palm brushed over your forehead, "How are you feeling?"

Automatically, you opened the popsicle wrapper and pressed the sweetness to the inside of your aching cheek. You'd had so many in the past two days that you had no idea what flavor it was, but they numbed your face enough for you to keep wanting them. "Hm."

Damian seemed to take that as an okay. You closed your eyes and listened for the sound of him pacing back toward the elevator, fists closed, but he bounced up the stairs instead and disappeared.

You closed your face against the couch-cushions and trembled a sigh.

You'd known that your boyfriend had a tendency to worry, but your encounter at the bank two days ago had scared him in a way you'd never seen before. Even if it had it had been an accident that you got caught up in the Joker's hostage situation, Damian was insistent that it was deliberate, and spent the last two days in the bunker as a result. In the rare moments Damian checked up on you, he was withdrawn and vengeful.

Now that he was Batman, Damian's responsibilities—and time away from you—had tripled. You weren't unused to his workload thanks to his time as Robin, but the ringing silence of the penthouse was so easily filled with your memories of laughter and voices and fear. But asking him to stay upstairs would be unfair. Batman was needed, even if you needed him too.

Figuring that Damian wouldn't be seen until much later, you finished off the popsicle. Stared. The shadows from the dark kitchen worried you, so you turned away from them, and turned back, and then one more time, tossing and turning.

You remembered your first months as Damian's girlfriend. High school hadn't been good to either of you, so you both worked hard to be for each other what no one else would. Years of loneliness had just suddenly... evaporated, and then Damian was there and he was your boyfriend and things were spectacular.

_I thought I was incapable of love_ , he'd told you. You'd been laying on the trampoline in your backyard, Damian's cheek against your shoulder. _I wasn't meant for it. I was meant to be used, to hurt. Until you._

Until you. Funny, how Joker had said those same words and cut you twice as deep—all without even knowing it. You could handle the waiting, and the fear, but when he'd looked at you and read you, trying to dig and hitting gold... It all felt so wrong. You hated knowing that Joker could look at you once and know exactly what to say: _Poor, lonely little girl. I think I'll kill you first! I've never tried to skin a girl with a whittling knife before. Until you._

Then he'd laughed and laughed and laughed. And he'd been right. You were lonely.

Suddenly, the world dropped back down on top of you. Your breathing was a mess. A blanket was being put over you, but it was too warm, too warm—hands were trying to settle you, rubbing your back, encouraging you to breathe, but you couldn't breathe, and you were crying, and it all hurt so much because you could have died and you could have died lonely.

Damian's voice came back to you all at once, like being pulled out of water and having the world's sound crushed in on you again, "—ou're safe now. Just breathe. Just breathe."

Hot tears rushed down your face through the vile creases of a smile that wasn't yours. Hands came under your thighs and you were scooped up, embraced and cradled, Damian's voice a low croon against your chest. Your arms wound around his neck in an instant, and Damian's hold hummed with so much warmth that you realized you were icy to the touch.

"I-I can't," you gasped.

"Shh," Damian's nose touched your hair. "Breathe with me. Out... in. Out... in. Well done. Just a couple more times. You're okay, beloved. Out..."

Gravity shifted. Damian sat down on the couch so he could better comfort you, both arms rubbing wide circles up your back. His shirt-collar was soaked through with tears and would definitely have to be ironed with all your desperate clutching, but to be with him so closely, untethered, was so relieving and necessary that it became half the reason you were crying.

"I am sorry, my love," Damian's voice wilted with guilt. His fingers brushed through the underside of your hair, and even that helped fight down your burst in droves. "My sweet girl. You deserve none of my ignorance or stress. I-I thought you were angry with me, for failing you, but I realize now that I was foolish. I should have kept you much closer to me."

After a while of that, of Damian's gentle breathing and the loving feel of his hands on your back and neck, you recovered yourself. Still, having Damian so close was something you didn't think you could ever give up. If he shifted even a little, you panicked and jumped to hold him tighter to you.

Damian relaxed. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised.

"I know," your voice was muffled by his shirt and tight regardless. "I-I know... Just, just... you've been gone so long."

Cursing, Damian leaned back so he could look at you. His eyes were hard, but after so long you knew that was his way of sympathy. "I shouldn't have left you all alone up here. That was foolish of me."

You stayed there for a long time, shuddering in his arms. Damian constantly rubbed your back and hair. If you weren't crying so hard you might have realized he was rocking you back and forth, but all the soothing motion did was exhaust you, and you knew that it would take much more to put you to sleep. After thirty minutes, Damian's presence began to bid away even your incoming nightmares.

"Okay," you whispered. You brought your head off his shoulder for the first time in a while, meeting his eyes with your sad E/C ones. "I'm feeling better, now. Just... stick around?"

"You need rest," Damian said. He combed your hair over your forehead. "Rest and warmth. You're freezing."

Two of your fingers gravitated to his face, to the handsome line of the cheek you loved even under the mask, to the jaw you would recognize anywhere. "Could you help me warm up? Sleeping... isn't exactly an option right now."

Damian's lip lifted at one side. Sadness glimmered in his eyes, so you knew it was an attempt at a joke when he smirked, "I know a way to aquire both, if you desire it..."

At first you gave his arm a playful smack, but when you actually considered it... Being intimate with Damian was exactly what you needed. His warmth, his love, his attention. The simple reminder of intimacy would make you forget about what had happened. At least long enough to get a good night's sleep. The stress wound up in Damian's neck proved that he could probably use it, too.

"I mean... Could we?" You winced.

Damian's expression went through a few rapid changes all at once, then subsided into something sweet and assuring. "If that is what you would like. I believe we could both use the break."

"Okay," you blushed.

Damian softened, "Okay."

You started with slow, magnetic kissing, pecking and nuzzling at one another's faces. Melting knots in Damian's shoulders reminded you how much Damian loved this kind of affection, and the little time you had for it with your work and his stacked against each other. Even if you were supposed to be the one being comforted, you worked hard to relax your boyfriend, massaging his shoulders and chest as you kissed him. Damian sighed pleasantly through his nose at the touch. You could almost feel the weight on his shoulders being forgotten.

And while you kissed away his stress, Damian barreled through yours. Patient as ever, he pecked gently in response to you, sinking low into every punctuated kiss. Two of his fingers rubbed the back of your neck to rid you of the pressure there. It brought your kissing even closer together, and urged your body into Damian's tender, broad enveloping one.

Hands came up under your bottom. Applying that Batman strength, Damian came up off the couch with you wrapped around his hips. You kissed until you got to the elevator, where you laid your ear against his collar and relaxed into the loving sensation of Damian's arms around you.

"Shh," he whispered when you went to speak. "I'll take care of you. Of everything. You may relax."

After so long, the sound of the building's elevator receeding into the sub-basement relieved you. The Bunker, Damian's batcave, was one of the safest places in the world. Nothing and no one would be able to hurt you here. The space was mostly dark but for the computer's screen-saver, and under the blue light you were placed on a clean medical cot and kissed.

"Down here?" You said.

"Mhm," Damian palmed the arch of your back and pressed his lips, gently, in circles on your neck. "Want you close to me. While I work."

You sucked in air through your teeth at the sensation. Already, Damian had your head lolling off your shoulders. You ran your fingers through his hot cowl-hair. "Don't think about that right now."

Damian pulled away to view you. When he did, you saw immediately the lust in his eyes, brewing there with a tenderness that told you everything that was about to happen in the next half hour. A hand cupped one side of your face and a thumb brushed over your mouth, daydreaming. "And what do you suggest I think about instead?"

Both of your hands gravitated to his chest, where they snuck under his shirt and smoothed up. Damian's stomach fluttered with the influx of cold air, but his arrogance always loved the examination of his hard-earned, rigorously sculpted abdominals. Even the muscle over his ribs was thick.

You kissed him, taking off his shirt as an excuse to palm Damian's pectorals and collarbones. "Take a guess."

Damian smiled against your lips.

In between your favorite activity of soft, meaningful kissing, Damian pressed his brow and body to yours. Usually you didn't think too hard about the de-clothing process, but he put effort into making the gesture intimate and comforting this time. Damian's thumbs and fingers stroked, rubbed and pet around your hips and down your legs, and suddenly your pants were on the floor. Your shirt disappeared when Damian spooled it over your head between kisses. You made a mental note to add that ritual to your routine with Damian. Most of the time, he would drop his cowl and utility belt and that was all.

This time, you could appreciate your boyfriend without his uniform on. The lack of armor made you realize how strong Damian really was, how broad, which made the relaxing weight now assisting you onto your back all the more arousing.

He chased you up to the head of the bed with kisses, deep enough to smush his nose into your cheek, and intense enough to have your tongue combing his teeth. Damian's big hands lifted your hips and rid you of your underwear, which you watched him tuck into his back pocket with a smirk.

"What do you think you're doing?" You tried not to grin.

"Keepsake," Damian shrugged.

You touched Damian's face, which was scar-ridden and doting. "Idiot," you told him, affectionately.

"Hardly." From his other pocket, Damian revealed a condom in his two fingers. Batman was always prepared, you supposed.

Just looking at his silloutte in the bunker's darkness made you ache. Your hands gravitated to the button on his pants, which opened his waistband around the thick buldge Damian's thoughts of you had built up. All the effort he put into his unfeeling façade was meaningless in momentslike this. Your affection always, eventually, undid Damian entirely. He was so soft. Just thinking about making love to you had excited him.

Before you could make any move to relieve Damian's burden, he took to relieving your stress instead. A pillow was propped under your bottom to lift your hips for him. That must have been a way of teasing what was to come, because Damian ignored your aching core in favor of kissing love-bites into your thighs. His dark eyelashes fluttered shut against his skin with every hickey. You squirmed and moaned with thrill, so Damian's doting mouth persisted to nip at your hip flesh.

"Ravishing," he would whisper in worship. "You're perfect, beloved."

When you were successifully slathered with kisses, you imagined that Damian would move on, but he was too much of a romantic to skip any chance to adore you. He nuzzled slowly into your calf as it wrapped around his shoulder. Swallowing with pleasure, Damian leaned down and sucked on the tendon between your core and your thigh. His eyes were half-lidded and dark.

"Damian, please..." you gasped, "I need you. You don't need to pamper me tonight."

Damian pulled off of your skin and scoffed. "I _like_ to pamper you."

You stroked the knuckles lifting up your thighs, smiling lazily. "Please, Damian? I'm so wet for you..."

That seemed to spur him on a little. A lot. Instead of supporting you with his hands, your legs rested around his hips as Damian drew into your space. His tall form over yours stole even the light of the batcomputer, which left the expirience to the soft sound of Damian moaning into your mouth and the hot, comforting pressure of his body on top of yours. The angle put all of your bottom weight onto Damian's firm boxers, which were shrugged down and away in the darkness.

There was a plastic crinkle, like candy in cellophane. Hearing the sound of the condom filled your belly with butterflies. Damian's voice, just centimeters from your ear, was even better. "You okay? Shall I...?"

Genuine concern leaked from Damian's voice. More and more often, he'd been inactively distant with you—Batman slipped so easily into Damian's mind, at times. The gentle inflection from your highschool sweetheart's voice warmed you, but also reassured you that Damian wasn't totally lost in his work. You still had time together. Both of you were living, and there was more hope in that than either of you had thought to give.

Emotional, you palmed Damian's heart. He didn't hesitate to lean even further over you, touching his cheek to your collarbones, and like the automatic assembly of two parts made for one another you wrapped your arms around Damian's neck. His hair smelled like sweat and kevlar. You hugged for a long time, and only when Damian raised his head did you realize that you were crying.

"Please," you interrupted Damian's suggestion to stop. "I need this. I need you."

Damian hesitated. He resumed when he felt your lips press wet kisses into his throat, swallowing (with lust or guilt, you didn't know), and lifted his body away from yours. You felt an elbow touch down beside your head and Damian's chest press to yours. Above you, hot breaths fanned across your face, and inevitably a warm hand invaded the cave's cold air to stroke your tears into your skin. Desperate for his closeness, you wrapped both arms around his wrist and sniffled into Damian's comforting palm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for," you promised. Damian was right above you, and so you spoke into the inch of space between your silhouettes. "Let's move on. Let's be better. Feel better, together."

Damian digested that. His silence was more like himself this time, and you felt better when it was his voice instead of Batman's that spoke, soft and forgiving: "Okay, my love."

You left the comfort of his hand to kiss Damian, with all the softness that you could give him. That softness continued even as Damian's brow pressed into yours. You felt it again when his lips parted to wet the front of your tongue with his, and once more when Damian moaned into your mouth. Most of all, you felt it glow off him in the darkness. Love and safety and goodness. The fingers cupping Damian's neck were removed and pressed under his on the medical beds soft sheets, where you entwined your fingers.

"Ready?" Damian asked.

"I love you," you answered, and above your head Damian's hand assuredly squeezed yours.

It wasn't your first time having sex, nor was it the first time having sex under similar circumstances, but Damian could always make these moments special. His lips and tongue played with your mouth, waiting for the quiet gasp he loved to press out of you when he entered you for the first time. It slipped free and Damian crooned as he licked the sound off your tongue. The initial pressure of his head gliding inside you was like... well, it was like Damian Wayne was making love to you, which was something so phenomenal that a description wasn't necessary.

You mewled. Damian chuckled, and the note of arrogance in his tone was familiar in a way that made you feel safe. He kissed you deeply, languidly, knees locked in preparation. The moment he gave you to adjust felt too short, but part of that could be Damian's distracting kisses. It wasn't to distract you from the wide girth of his dick filling you out, either, but the slow pull of his hands in yours. Damian guided the grip down so your wrists paralleled your shoulders, pressing your breasts together in the way he loved. By the time he was completely inside you, Damian moved away from your lips to kiss the sensitive flesh of your chest. His length treated you the same way, begining to pump in and out of your slick like the sink and rise of the tide.

" _Y/N_..." Damian hissed.

With his hips propping up your legs, all you had to do was grind back in reply. It stole the breath out of Damian's chest, so you kept pace with him that way. Your boyfriend would flex his arms, draw back his hips, then take you all the way in with stuttery gasps of delight, and when Damian's pelvis pressed to yours you would squeeze and push back. Even without the light in the cave you knew his eyes would roll back in ecstasy. The low, dizzy groan exhaled between your bodies told you that and more.

He dropped your hands. You whined at the loss, but then you whined at the fact that Damian's cock was throbbing with want inside of you instead. In the darkness, Damian admired you, admired the feel of your tight heat around him, palms coasting your sides and breasts appreciatively. Not once did he lose the steady, almost relaxing pace that rolled Damian's cock within you. You knew he was getting close when his head dropped to your shoulder. Of course, he was still Batman, so it felt like a euphoric eternity had passed since Damian had filled you out. His endurance was a beast, and that beast was currently sucking love marks into your exposed neck while Damian made love to you.

"Kiss me," you begged. If he didn't hear you, you wouldn't blame him—Damian's breathing was loud and the sticky pop of your skin connecting echoed under the rushing water in the cave.

Damian's lips magnetized to yours. Moans and squeals and shudders vibrated between your mouths, jerking up and back with the heavy thrusting, until you silenced the sound by searing your kiss closed. It all came down on you at once. Damian's cock smoothed into your core with a slow tenderness, the weight of his breath on your chest, the sweetness of his hands on either side of your belly—all of it blew your mind over the edge. Everything but your hips went still. You didn't need to fill Damian in, considering he felt your orgasm with just as much power as you had. His front fell forward on top of you, collapsed with exhaustion, hips fluttering still as his cum collected in the condom. The feeling was so close and hot that you could do nothing but uncoil in the darkness underneath him, worries forgotten.

When Damian was finished, he brushed his hands down your arms and kissed above your ear. You understood that this was the part where he slunk away to work, so you rolled over, away from him, and tried to be grateful for the loving moment you had shared with a sigh. Batman was the priority. Gotham was the priority, not you.

But then it wasn't necessary to be upset about Damian leaving. The thin space beside you dipped, and again Damian's warm, calloused hand brushed down your arm. "Beloved," he whispered, "may I lay with you? Thank you, for tonight."

Surprised, you replied, "Thank you."

When you rolled over, you were welcomed with open arms. _Damian's_ open arms. And you were safe.


	4. A Demonstration of Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one had ever gazed at you before, so you decided then that you would do anything for Damian. Give him a massage when he asked? Always. Stay with him as he became the Demon's Head? Without question. Blow him in front of his agents to prove a point?
> 
> Well, here you were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a different friend and I had a conversation about Damian's leading habits. let's leave it at that. this isn't in the same storyline as the last loa Damian fic !!

The war council assembled in the conference room. You thought it was funny that the League of Assassins had a conference room, even if it looked nothing like one with it's domed ceiling and columned walls. The sleek marble stone swept around the group of spies, agents and soldiers, who all stood to one side in a semicircle. Being high-ranking officers, each one of them was poised at their seat, which were marked with nameplates that detailed the country they were from. It was a mock United Nations, and each assassin looked to the man opposite them.

On a huge, plush throne, Damian al Ghul finally seated himself. This began the meeting. With a collective bow of respect, the group seated themselves.

"Agenda," he said, crossing his legs.

You watched the armor plates on his shins glimmer, drawn white where the light hit the engravings of twin dragons. Swallowing down a blush, you did your best not to think about how intimate you'd been with those greaves before.

A soldier at Damian's right began to speak. He explained what the meeting was for and what issues needed to be discussed. Your attention was taken quickly, and then taken again by theassassins Damian had across the globe. From your view at his side, or more appropriately, their view of you at Damian's, they could flick their eyes to your form without disrespecting the Demon's Head.

It had been a long time since Ra's had lead them. So much had changed since then, including Damian's "staff" (if a massive network of spies could be called such a thing). The few of them that had served under Damian's Grandfather hadn't even blinked at you, but the officers and agents new to the League stared at you with pink indignant faces. You stifled a smirk. So they could handle murder, betrayal, resurrection and espionage, but they couldn't handle Damian Al Ghul taking a mistress. How funny.

What was funnier was how in character this was for the Al Ghul, and yet how surprised his soldiers still were. Damian had a thing for proving himself. Judging by how his lip was starting to curl, he was taking notice of all the stares going your way. When the representative from Damian's German operations started shuffling uncomfortably, Damian dipped his head your way and beckoned you toward his throne. As soon as you were close enough he took your hand and brought you in front of him.

"Let's teach them to focus on the task at hand, yes?" Damian whispered with a smirk.

Knowing this was coming, you bowed. "If that is what you'd like, Master."

A familiar glint winked in Damian's eyes at the word. Most of his underlings called him that, but you'd given the word new meaning years ago. The compound had only found out about your entanglement in the last week, but the truth was that it had been going on for a long time. You were simply a servant, born into a family that had served the al Ghuls for decades. When you came of age you began to work on the grounds and in the stables, where you would care for Damian's favorite Mustangs. You had no clue how it happened, but one day you'd passed off the reins to him and your fingers had slunk off in a way that betrayed your crush on him. Plenty of the servants had a crush on Damian. He'd had a handsome build even in his mid-teens, with bronze skin that attracted sunlight like pollen attracted bees, and those magnetic green eyes that would wink at you every time he went horseback riding.

When you were sixteen, your entire life had been fed by his brief flirtations. It wasn't your place to know the Grandson of the Demon beyond what he asked of you as a servant, but Damian loved his horses, and you were the one who took care of them. At first it was long, dangerous stares. You would be filling the troughs with water and feel Damian's eyes refuse to leave your form. He would touch your wrists or neck more than any Al Ghul had ever touched a servant, and his quiet greetings became whispered confessions.  _Good morning. You look beautiful today. Do you like me?_

That last question would always end the conversation. Once Damian asked it he asked it every time, and every time you were forced to give him the same answer.  _ I serve you, Master . _

But Damian was smart enough to see your infatuation with him. For a while, you'd pitied yourself with reasons not to answer his question in the way he wanted. You were a servant. Damian could be toying with you, using you as some adventurous distraction from his training. Being with you in any way would be taboo. If Ra's was feeling particularly wrathful that day, you might even be tortured over it. The only reason Damian liked you was because you were one of his only options. But he did have all those other girls Ra's was forcing on him, the ones more  equipped for his lineage , which you knew meant that they were enough royal or had enough power to meet the Demon's standards. Still, Damian would find ways to talk to you or touch you.

So you were moved from the stables to his personal circle of servants. Instead of cleaning saddles you were doing Damian's laundry or polishing his weapons. The closer you grew in secret, the deeper his stares became. Often, you were seventeen and he was seventeen, and you would be left alone together... just a servant and her master, with nothing else going on at all.

The sex was incredible. The danger of it, being caught associating with one another, turned it from innocent experimenting to life-or-death love making. You would be among the two or three servants who bathed Damian, and he would send the others away before he was done and have you wash the rest of him.  That  was true intimacy. You would press your face into his thick, muscular back and wrap your arms around him from behind, pumping soap along his manhood under the water. No one had ever touched him like this, so you could listen to his choked groans and know that they were all yours. If he was desperate for you he would beg you to join him, and you'd make tender love over the side of the tub, breathing in time with one another.

You couldn't lay together in bed, read together, or spend much time together at all out of fear of discovery, so the only moments you could be together were those. Damian would take any ounce of love that he could get. He'd fuck you viciously in a secluded part of the stables, pants around his thighs and hammering into you like a madman. He'd sneak his way into the servant showers and cover your mouth while he pumped you full with cum, the other servants just a curtain away. He'd even carry you into his room after a long day of missions or training to kiss every inch of you, then fill you with every inch of him. When he needed a quick stress relief Damian would summon you to his quarters and fuck his dick down your throat. But for someone above you, he was very aware of your needs. You became so close (and perhaps so in love) that you could come to him for the same and he would pleasure you for as long as he could last.

All you had ever known was service, and to think outside it, outside of all the old women in your family that had done nothing in their lives, was tantalizingly forbidden. Damian was the only part of your life that you could enjoy. Not once did you allow yourself to dream beyond what you had, but you'd never been special to someone. Never been someone's favorite. You'd never been anything but the laundry girl or the polishing girl or the working girl, but suddenly Damian's soft kisses under moonlight transformed you into royalty.

You remembered laying with him after a round of vicious sex at twenty, Damian wrapped around you like a cobra, kissing your neck. He had laid there and just looked at you. No one had ever gazed at you before, so you decided then that you would do anything for Damian. Give him a massage when he asked? Always. Stay with him as he became the Demon's Head? Without question. Blow him in front of his agents to prove a point?

Well, here you were.

You kneeled between his legs. The room went quiet in shock. The agent reading the agenda trailed off into a coughing fit, and Damian spread his legs to give you access. You'd done this so many times that Damian knew to help keep your hair out of your face, but other than that he sat straight in his seat and paid attention, like there wasn't a girl kissing all over the front of his pants as the meeting went on around him.

Damian looped his finger in the air to summon the attention of the room. Like he'd ever lost it. "Continue."

Damian's bulge hung heavy in his pants. It was so big that it didn't sit just at his front, but had to squeeze down the length of his pantleg. You found his tip with ease because of the position,rolling your tongue against it's shape and sucking through the fabric. But the almost-taste of pre-cum was impossible to resist, so you got to work at pulling open his trousers.

"B-but sir..." his speaking soldier said.

Damian raised his sharp brow. "Did I tell you to stop?"

"No, sir, but..."

Without so much as a moan, grunt or a hiss, Damian balanced his elbows on the arms of his seat and folded his hands, expectant. "But nothing. We have important matters to get to. Begin."

He may have been speaking to the assembly, but you started your own work too. Just wrapping your hand around his base had you swallowing, but it was the way that the thick, heavy body popped out and smacked against his abs that really turned you on. Whatever embarrassment you had was totally forgotten. Free, the weight of his dick fell between his legs, where you dipped your head to pool your spit across it. The room was silent but for the awkward stuttering of the soldier going over the agenda... and your lips puckering against Damian's vieny cock.

Your spit popped and schlicked as your spread it properly, kissing at his heavy head. If Damian was the Demon's Head, then you were his most faithful worshipper, taking his burden on your knees. Yes, Damian had suggested that doing something dramatic like this would make the opinions of his soldiers changed (it  was a huge show of dominance), but you knew this was an excuse to explore his fantasies too. His expression was perfectly manipulated into flat control. His hands weren't shaking. His eyes didn’t drop to yours one time. To the soldiers, it looked like Damian could be totally honed in on battle strategy while getting the best blow job of his life.

You made sure every single person in that room knew how phenomenal it was, too. Mouth watering, you pumped Damian's base with tiny, tempting circles, playing at his head with your tongue. To warm him up you rolled his tip against the inside of your cheek, lapping under at the ridge where the shaft of his dick began. Just the top of his cock fit in your mouth without any push, so you could comfortably sit with your mouthful and suckle on the salty flavor. Since conversation was edging toward normal again (well, as normal as it could be), you pushed yourself so Damian's cockhead squeezed into the block in your throat and moaned. High and needy, grinding the muffled vibration into his dick. 

Where the soldiers couldn't tell, Damian's thighs had tensed to rock and his toes curled in his boots.

That was when your breath gave up on you. You dragged it out until you were choking on him, throat constricting for any breath it could get, tightening around the first inch of cock. The brutal tease always got something out of Damian, but now his eyes didn't dare to catch yours. He ignored you to deliver orders to his African spies, and the deep, silky tone of leadership in his voice spilled slick between your legs. He was so hot. So fucking hot.

While you took back your breath, your eyes burned into Damian's face, daring him to look down at you. He would have seen his beloved panting hard around his cock, so devoted to him that you couldn't even bring yourself to pull it out of your mouth all the way to breathe. Damian didn't look. He was too good for that. But you would make him, break him, no matter what it took.

That first section had just been a warm up, anyway. You caught something about sabotage in Greece before you invested yourself in your own mission, which had upgraded to real work. Damian's cock was lathered properly with spit now, so you locked your lips around his manhood and started to move. No matter how deep the bob, no matter the angle, you kept your lips closed against his hot, salty skin and gulped. It was so easy that you could go lower without a hitch, but Damian was still playing leader. You could drool and mewl and choke down half of his girth, but he wouldn't even flinch. Determined to draw this out, you drew off him to tease him with kisses instead.

And those balls. His cock was so good you'd nearly forgotten about them, but they were hard to miss. Just looking at them made your pussy tremble. Holding one in your mouth was like trying to swallow an orange whole, so you used the gagging to your advantage and pleasured him with your convulsing throat. Of course, you couldn't leave his cock all alone. With both hands, you pumped his meat from bottom to top, working it slow and mean. It took so much effort that your arms were weak, until Damian finally gave.

"I want the squadron in that area moved to the East," Damian ordered. He grabbed your jaw in one hand, squeezing until your glossy lips opened, and plunged your head onto his cock. Once his bulbous tip was in your throat, he moved his hand to the back of your head and pressed down. Your hot throat resisted, until you forced it to give and welcome your favorite cock. "They'll be more equipped there," Damian continued, casually, "and we'll have better access to them."

You gagged, gurgled and choked, but Damian wouldn't let you go. The only way you could describe deepthroaing him was... full. So full. His dick gave you little room to move. There was spit flowing from your glossed mouthful, your nose, and dripping in sticky cables down Damian's cockmeat. He tasted delicious, too, warm and salty and sweet. Nothing had ever been sexier. If it sounded good, tasted good, it must have looked insane. The soldiers got to watch you worship Damian's slobbery cock, ass up and head bent. Damian's view had to be the greatest of all. He got to watch up close as your throat squeezed around him, drooled around him, and your lips puffed against him.

You came in your underwear, delirious.

Damian was hardly throbbing. You collapsed against him, gasping for breath with his cock still half in your cheek. You suckled sweet-tasting saliva off of his tip, but not a lick of it was pre-cum.

Fine. Last measures, then.

Standing on shaking legs, you toed off your dress and laid your aching knees beside Damian's. This hadn't been apart of the plan, but Damian must have been hoping for it based on his lack of objection. Sweet hands welcome you into his lap, caress your thighs, and then pry off your underwear. He's still talking about something League related, and at this point you don't know if it's impressive or annoying that he doesn't make a noise when you slide his tip against the mouth of your heat. You're a moaning, sputtering mess at that point, mewling for Damian to fuck you, regardless of the audience you're facing. You brace your hands on the gaurds on Damian's knees and drag your pussy lips through the spit shining on him, while he orders his men and rubs his huge tip against your aching clit.

You squeeze him inside of you the second Damian lets you. A genuine moan spills from your mouth, a sound like the girls in fantasies make, and suddenly his massive cock is throbbing in time with your pulsing heat. You're all the way on him, getting every little sensation. Damian twitches and twinges. But the moment you try to ride him, Damian sears his grip to your hips and forces you back into place. It fills you to the core with dick, but dick  without friction. You try to beg him, but your moans are dismissed as he makes another request of his agents.

Every time you try and bounce, Damian will force you back into place. When you go to grind on him, he slaps your ass to hurt and then continues what he's saying. He literally uses you as a cockwarmer. You go to the end of the meeting like that, glued onto his cock, elbows struggling to hold you up on his knees, forced to milk him in place for all you can get. It's excellent, in it's own way. Staying still makes the stretch more noticeable, and helps your slick leak free and coat his balls. Any one who wanted to look in the room could, and they would see you flailing to get anything more than Damian's dick stuffing you full. His cock is so big that you can only see your pussy's pink outer ring choked under it. 

"Up," Damian finally orders. A few of the soldiers look relieved, but it's not them he's talking to.

You stand, winded. Not that it matters with how little time you're given to recover. Damian almost throws you onto his throne, jerking up your hips and sliding you into place on your knees against it. He's making a speech on the value of secrecy while he pumps his cock, coats his tip on your entrance, and resumes fucking you. Your cunt squelches and pulses, muscles tensing and untensing wildly, swallowing his cock as it's plunged into you. If you cum three times it’s because your nerves are as sensitive as static, gravitated to any touch of any kind. And Damian does nothing but touch you. His broad, thick-knuckled hands pick up your ass and hips in doughy handfuls. The veins in his arms jump as he locks you into place and uses you at his leisure. For every time you interrupt him, Damian delivers a deadly strike to your ass, fixing his pelvis to your pussy until your flesh starts to bruise.

“And lastly, I feel that the behavior of some of the officers in this room should be addressed,” Damian carried on. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the ill-treatment of those below your ranks. We are all the League, and the League respects itself. It cares for it’s own, as superior officer,” he thrust, “Demon’s Head,” he bucked, “or servant.”

You gasped for more. You gasped for Damian to cum all over you, so he slid out of your dripping cunt and, without a single change in his regal expression, turned you onto your back and spurted warm seed across your middle. He painted you long enough to pool cum between your tits and drown your lips in white. Damian was cumming even as you lapped up his mess, and he kept going until his stores were empty and every sexual part of you was dripping with him. You felt dribbles of seed pulsing down your inner thighs.

“Well done,” Damian praised. He snapped his fingers, “Clean up your mess and you may be finished.”

Feeling every stare in the room on your cum-slathered form, you gladly sat up and licked Damian’s softening cock. In just a few laps and slurps, your master’s dick was left only with a clean coat of saliva.

And there you were, on his throne with Damian al Ghul’s dick sideways across your lips, frosted with long rivulets of rich cum, on display to everyone in the room. Damian’s performance was flawless, so each soldier that had ever questioned his focus bent their heads to the floor. His eyes gleamed. They’d certainly learned their lesson.

But you would never mind if Damian decided that they needed a second.

Or a third. Or a tenth.


	5. The Art of The Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some Batman!Damian and Catwoman!reader for your wet dreams. make sure to vote in the comments!

Damian's cape caught the wind.

He fell, landed in a roll on the next roof over and kept going, legs pumping viciously under his armor. The sleek black material caught the moonlight when he unclipped his grappling hook from his belt. Just as he predicted, the woman ahead took her chances with the apartment complex across from them. She was probably thinking that Damian could chase her better on the street, but really, she was cornered either way. In one shot, Damian's line grappled him a step above her, where he braced himself on the building's side like a rock climber and ensnared her by the arm.

"Hand... them...  over ," Damian growled.

Catwoman glared at him. It wasn't a mean glare, necessarily, but affronted by the fact that Damian dared to chase you. You probably didn't appreciate being manhandled much, either.

In the same tone, you leaned into his face and replied, "Let...  me ... go!"

When Damian didn't, you struggled against him, hand and boot claws still embedded in the building's brick. When it was clear that Batman wouldn't give, you grunted in frustration.

"Don't be an idiot," you whispered hoarsley. "I know what you're thinking, but I can explain."

Damian's lip was a cruel, hard line. "You haven't stolen anything in years, Y/N. What is this about? Why go back? Why take old mob jewelry of all things?"

You struggled with him still, but not only was Damian's grip strong, it didn't look like you were actually trying to break free. Damian knew you well enough to tell. In fact, you'd known each other so long, he could read the real purpose in your voice. Part of that had come from years of chasing you and Selina down, but most of the odd connection boiling between you and Batman had been built after your Catgirl days. The man gripping your arm had been your first kiss, your first love, your first time. Your first near-death experience. After retiring your Catgirl mantle to learn some more about the world you stole from, you returned to find Robin, the gruff, rude, mouthy boy puppy-crushing on you in high school... as Batman. Maybe it was Selina who set you on the Catwoman path, or it was the urge to match Damian's bet.

As dramatic as it was, from the moment you'd met the scoundrel your soul had felt... reflected. Paired to. After a lifetime of isolation and loneliness, of being the only girl at school who nobody had a crush on, of sleeping on park benches and eating from trash to make it, the survivalist in you had found its match. Damian. Robin. Even before you were friends you'd quietly called yourself his counterpart, and when your feelings overcame you that word became  soulmate . And he felt the same. Seeing the man you loved as Batman, your spirit begged to take your place at his side.

...Or opposite him, like now.

"I need you to believe me." You plead, keeping your voice low but your face hard. "I'm... in danger."

Instantly, Damian released your arm and tensed up. The hard line of his cheekbone relaxed, though, and his grimace settled into a worried frown. "Tell me. I'll get you out of it. I promise."

Surprised, you lifted your head. "Just like that?"

"Yes," Damian nodded. "But don't forget who you're talking to, L/N. If this is some kind of trick, I'll see through it before you think I will."

The cowl made him look scarier than usual, more shapeless and vague, like a face you make out in a shadow that's not there in the next glance. The moonlight only touched a portion of his face, so you had to remind yourself that it was Damian you were talking to by looking at his lip.

With a superstitious look at the building's around you, you slid yourself under Damian arm and whispered. "Alright. I'll explain somewhere more private. My place?

Damian raised a cool eyebrow.

"Oh, get your head out of the gutter," you smirked. "Geez. Tell a guy you're life is being threatened and he _still_ thinks about sex."

-

You lead Batman back to your penthouse, which is more storage than living space. Piles of unpacked artifacts sit boxed-up in corners, most copies or Selina's old steals. Too many plants for one person to own laze in every crevice. The floor to ceiling windows and open floor plan give the impression of penetrable, but the unseen weapons and security system do not. You can see out while no one else can see in, which is perfect for avoiding mob snipers.

After you pull a few darts out of Damian's chestplate (he ignored your warnings about entering before you disarmed the place), you change out of your uniform and sit in the dark of the kitchen with him. Damian thinks you can't see the way he eyes your collarbones in your pajamas, but being a thief trains the tingle in your spine, and somehow your cheeks grow warm without your permission. You and Damian hadn't been alone together for a while now, between your travelling and Batman work. It had to be months since he's seen you out of uniform. Being alone with him never failed to relax your gaurd, but him standing in the shadow of your fridge like that spikes your anxiety. He's too much like Batman.

"Is it the mob who are hunting you?" Damian interrogates. "I imagine stealing a priceless historical ring from them would do that, Y/N."

"Well, I had a good reason," you defend. Quietly, you dip your head and add, "Um... could you take your cowl off? I would rather see your face while we talk about this..."

Damian pauses, but it's for his surprise instead of his suspicion. He still trusts you. In the dark where you can't see, Batman clicks the opening mechanism and slides it off. When he emerges from the dark, he's the handsome, sharp-angled man you're familiar with. The cowl hides so much of his looks from you. Now, in the soft light of the moon, you can appreciate the jawline you used to tenderly kiss, the sand dune tan that used to press hot to your own, and the heavy-lashed eyes that had captured your every thought for centuries. No matter how much stress Damian was under his perfect complexion would never crack, and the only marks on his skin were the bare spreading of freckles on his brow and cheekbone. There were the scars, too, but you hated to admire Damian's abuse for it's beauty. He was beautiful. A survivor, like you, and so it wasn't his scars that were beautiful but he who made them so.

When he was that freshly thirteen-year-old boy trying to toss you in juvie, the cape had looked so pretentious. Like he was a precious little prince galavanting around in his daddy's armor. Now, Damian was a king, and the cape on his back was his own, spilling from his shoulders powerfully and regally. You'd daydreamed about wrapping yourself up in the rubber-silk fabric and kissing Damian like you used to.

"Well?" Damian cocked one sharp eyebrow. "What was your reason for stealing that ring?"

For some reason, the plump shape of his lip made you forget yourself. You turned your eyes to your hands instead. "If you must know, your majesty, I stole it for you."

You touched the necklace you wore. It was the ribbons of a small satchel, and in it was the ring you'd stolen. Damian calls it priceless, but the real number is somewhere near a few million. When you go to untie the ribbon, you struggle, and after rolling his eyes Damian took his place behind you to untie it himself.

His gauntlets felt along your skin for the knot, each flat plane of his fingers caressing your goose-bump pricked flesh. Damian grumbles a few swears, low and close to your neck, flushing your skin with warm air. Your thoughts are so obscene so suddenly that your stomach explodes with tension. It's impossible to think of anything other than Damian's wet, blazing tongue rolling in lines along your sensitive throat. You remember how he'd squeeze your chest until the burn came, digging his body as close as it could be to yours, spreading your ass with nothing but his buldge and begging you, begging you, to let Damian make love to you. 

The necklace slips from your neck and into Damian's waiting palm, which brushes your chest as he catches it. Still in detective mode and oblivious to the sex soaking your panties, Damian began to pace in thought, removing the diamond from it's parcel and studying it on the ring. His cape flares at his heels as he walks.

"The ring has—"

"—a hidden mechanism, I've found it," Damian interrupts.

Okay, that's a little annoying, but also super, super hot. You don't even need to explain the rest of your predicament to Damian, because his study of his ring tells him everything.

"I see," Damian hums. "Oh, how obvious! This will inside was written by the father of the heads of both the Hideli mob family and the Shoier mob family. With this ring, I can end the gang war I've been trying to temper for a year now, L/N! It all started in the first place because they argued over who would inherit what from their father..."

Batman disappears down a long, wordy, enthusiastic examination of what the will is capable of resolving. It's all stuff you already know thanks to your own research, but Damian hasn't been this excited in... well, ever. You don't mind sitting back and enjoying it. After all, you didn't steal the ring for it's value. You stole it for Damian.

"I know I, um, haven't been around in a while, but... I can tell you're scared of your responsibilities as Batman. Meeting those standards and everything." You shyly played with your fingers in your lap, feeling nothing like the Catwoman you were meant to be. "You're too stupid to relieve your own stress, so I thought I would help you out."

Damian stared at you, expectant.

"...And the innocents of Gotham too, I guess," you smirked.

Damian remained still, ring in one hand, unsurehow to respond. After a while of thought from the intricate, perfect mind you missed so much, Damian stored the ring in his utility belt. He reapplied his cowl. Then he moved in front of you, squeezing your arms appreciatively.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, and kissed you on your forehead.

With that, Batman collected his cape in one hand and turned to leave.

Instantly, you captured him by the shoulder and spun him back into your orbit until you were eye to eye. "Well, hold on a second! I still need some protection, D."

Damian snorted. "I imagined you were joking about that."

You scoffed. "Why would I joke about that?"

"Because you clearly don't need me to protect you," Damian observed, back to his cool, calculating self. "You are a strong, capable woman, who can easily escape me if she wants to. That's why I managed to corner you on the apartment complex before. You chose to let me catch you, didn't you? So anyone who might have followed you thought you weren't on my side."

Your reflex was to tease him for admitting you were better at something than him, but Damian's tone didn't let you. He said the assessment so matter-of-factly, so calmly, that the universe had to take his word as law. To everyone else you were a heartless, thoughtless thief who took for yourself and hoarded your wealth, while Damian was the only one who had ever cared enough to search beyond that. He meant what he said. He thought that was true. He was the only man who had ever been so kind to you without condition or payment, the only man who saw your strength and didn't belittle it with his own, and you loved him for of it.

"You're right." You said. "I could have left you in the dust if I wanted to. I'm Catwoman. I can do anything."

Slyly, and perhaps with a bit of shyness, you palmed Damian’s chest.

“But at this one particular moment, I’m asking for extra protection. Call it a...” you slid your hands further, feeling along the abs of his chest plate, “precaution?”

Damian’s lip, the only part of his face you could see, forcefully set. If you had to guess, he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts. Damian whispered between your bodies.

“I told you my terms. You know how much I despise this game we play.”

“You want commitment?” You asked him.

Damian didn’t shift. He just looked at you, breathing you in, weighing your honesty. “I do.”

You searched his face, and when you found your answer there, you fisted his cape in one hand and jerked him closer, chest-to-chest and breathing into each other’s mouths. “Then take it. Make me yours.”

Like he’d been yearning to, Damian stole both of your wrists and tenderly, sweetly, arranged them on each side of his cowl to remove it again. You kissed as it clattered to the tile. Damian was a ferocious kisser, barely letting you breathe, cupping your face like the romantic idiot he was, and smushing your faces together to meet your lips. Before it’s a make-out session, it’s a closed circuit of soft pecks and brow nuzzles and Damian. For a creature who stalked and hunted criminals, he bled to be loved and held. Damian inhales like air isn’t worth having as much as you are worth kissing. He whispers,  run away with me, I love you, never leave me, stay with me, I belong to you .

It’s the desperate plea of a man who’s never been loved like this before, so you give him some slack when it comes to the romance. It sounds innocent on paper, but Damian begs each breath between raking his nails up your ass, dragging you against him, palming up each side of your body, and rolling his tongue against yours. He’d always been a scary good kisser. You remember that he’d researched it so he could be better for you, but he’s improved so much that you forget what you were thinking all together and turn to putty in Damian’s hands. All you have to do is be receptive to his passionate, loving kiss, and run your fingers through his sweaty cowl hair. It’s perfect.

“I love you too,” you gasp.

Damian doesn’t open his eyes. He just breathes, caressing your nose with his. “Then tell me something more permanent than this.”

“I’ll move in with you,” you offer.

Damian hums in thought. “That. And you will call yourself my girlfriend.”

Despite your hesitation, giddiness dances in your feet. You smile into your next kiss. “Deal. Now are you going to fuck me or not?”

Without a second to waste, Damian begins to rip his gauntlets off with his teeth. “Until the sun rises.”

You’re convinced to lead him to your bedroom, and Damian follows, losing armor as he goes and grating his eyes down your body. The shiver that wriggles up your spine helps you read his every thought. By the time you get to the foot of your bed, Damian is a centimeter behind you and down to his black boxers. Your first thought is to kiss him as you get your hands on the cock you missed so much, but Damian is still determined to be romantic. He wraps his arms around you and holds you against him. He hugs you, genuinely hugs you, one arm around your middle and one crossed to hold your shoulder. The kisses he plots your neck with are sweet instead of the heavy tonguing you’d been fantasizing about earlier, but Damian’s loving murmurs make it just as hard to breathe.

You moan his name in the dark bedroom. Moon and city light glow in a long square of silver across your bed, and once again, you are at home in shadow with him. Damian gasps a moan. You manage to get your hand behind you, and Damian adjusts to the right so you can feel the weight of him in your hand. Appreciating Damian’s body can’t be done without laying yourself against his hard-earned muscle, which is warm and dewy after being under armor all night. You follow his toned naval to the bottom of his abs, lower, lower, and pluck aside his waistband to wrap your hand around his huge dick. You’d been stretching yourself out on Damian’s cock since you were nineteen, catsuit around your thighs, laid out on Damian’s cape while he fucked you on a rooftop somewhere. You and Damian had a habit of gravitating to each other when you were at your most alone, so a lot of your time was allotted with spurts of gorgeous sex and then hours of pillow talk. Sometimes, Damian would even take you on late-night adventures afterwards. The normal teenage kind, with slushees instead of ninjas. It was that which had made you fall in love with him, while also growing a heated obsession with his sex.

You’d been with other people between Damian, (who for so long was more of an event than a constant, like a miracle once every two months), but none of them were anything like him. When you weren’t feeling used, you weren’t being satisfied. Damian loved you. Damian treated you like he loved you. Damian was also one hell of a sexual partner.

Now, Damian dropped into his knees, tore down your pants and panties in one swipe, spun you into his side, and propped your leg over his shoulder to eat you out right then and there.

His tongue was inside you in an instant, separating your lips with one wide lick. Your pussy trembled against his persistent mouth, which outlined each of your lips in strong, slow lines, making sure you could feel every tastebud on his tongue. Damian knew exactly where your clit was, but he was smart enough to lead up to tasting it. Instead, he lapped everywhere around it, circling your folds with kisses and teasing you through little brushes of his nose. You couldn’t tip over even if you wanted to with how strong he was. Damian trapped you in place with a strong arm and lethal eye contact, slurping on your core like a man dying of thirst. It was hard to look back at him when he got so intense, purely because it took all the blood out of your body and put it in your face. He was gorgeous, but nothing made Damian hotter than the blaze in his eyes as he devoured your pussy.

That was just the foreplay. When he finally moved onto your clit, you were moaning and squealing so much that Damian started  smirking .

“You love it, don’t you?” Damian growled.

“Don’t... d-don’t be smug,” you hissed.

He must have taken that as a personal challenge, because a second later he was lathering your clit in tongue, sucking it into his mouth and working it with his fingers. Your pussy was so wet that it drew in any touch, layering Damian’s hand with slick almost to the wrist.

“Answer me.” He fucked you relentlessly with his fingers, stirring and stirring. “Do you love it?”

“So much!” You sobbed.

Damian kept his fingers together and then used them as a brutal fucking tool, plowing your pussy with stimulation. He slammed them inside of you until his knuckles ached, jawbone rolling sharp beneath his bronze skin at the effort. Your cunt auctioned around his tensed fingers. Damian’s tongue revealed its every trick, lapping up your pussy in lone drags, circling your sensitive clit, and teasing your entrance until you came across his face, shuddering like you’d been electrocuted. You couldn’t speak. You could barely breathe from the seismic level orgasm, so you showed your appreciation by limping off Damian’s shoulder and caressing his face and hair.

Damian’s eyes had that untamable spark in them, so you mustered your strength for the coming sex you wouldn’t mind not surviving.

“So... on your back, beloved?” Damian grinned, “Or on mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahah! i am a tease 😙 so, what'll it be? Damian on top? The reader on top? Both? Tell me down below! I'm also still accepting requests 💙 and I am ALWAYS accepting thirst comments lol


	6. The Art of The Chase, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On the bed," you unwound the circle of rope, "on your back," you closed your hand around the handle, "now."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the general consensus was a loud, unanimous, "READER ON TOP PLS!!" So. Here ya go ;)

Damian's eyes had that untamable spark in them, so you mustered your strength for the coming sex you wouldn't mind not surviving.

"On your back?" Damian grinned. "Or on mine?"

You debated. This wasn't something you could just throw yourself into. It took careful consideration, and, after all, you hadn't been intimate with Damian in months. Since you were both comfortable switching around, you'd tried to keep a tally of who had been on top when. But it's not like your sex life was exactly reliable. The last time you'd had sex, Damian had washed your hair in the bath, held you close to him and whispered sweet nothings. The time before that, he'd bent you over the batcomputer and fucked you ruthlessly. Just like you'd asked. Now that you thought about it, you hadn't been on top in a very long time...

"Well?"

You took Damian in. On his knees in front of you, his expression was as neutral as an unmoved lake. But he was itching to lick your remaining slick off his chin, to move, and he was desperate enough to forget his training and give himself away. One of his hands played at the back of your knee. His back was more relaxed than it had ever been before, but his hips were tense and fidgety. Of course, his bulge was still heavy in his boxers.

He never asked. He never asked, but how comfortable he sat underneath you told you everything you needed to know. Damian must have made love to you a hundred times before, pampered and adored you, but how often did you reciprocate? Damian had never let his embarrassment and pride stop him before. You loved this man. You owed it to him to prove it.

Without a word, you turned on your heel, sashayed to the nightstand, and from underneath the drawer you unhooked your Catwoman bullwhip.

"On the bed," you unwound the circle of rope, "on your back," you closed your hand around the handle, " _now_."

You snapped the whip across the floor experimentally. Damian did as told, trying to cover his eagerness with some feeble grumbling.

He laid on his back, reclined on the pillows so he didn't have to lift his head to meet your naughty stare. Damian's muscle would flex and ripple wherever he felt your gaze, squirming on the surface but only that. He did have some control left, apparently, because he was brave enough to look at you and hold that look. It meant Damian saw the eyeful you stole of his plump muscle tissue. If he didn't see it then he definitely felt it, because your eyes did nothing but sizzle along his clothed dick. The more you stared the more Damian squirmed, so you joined your staring with stalking, walking from one side of the bed to the other.

"Quit toying with me, L/N," Damian finally spat.

"Why should I? It's so much more fun to watch you get all riled up."

Damian crossed his muscular arms. "I won't beg you."

You began to snap the whip between your hands, a fire in your eyes, "That won't be true for long."

Whip still in hand, you slithered between his legs and into his lap, saddling him as if he were made for you. You could hook your calves back and they would tuck into Damian's thighs like water into skin. His curved manhood fit right between your legs, met there by your pantiless bottom. What remained of your slick glistened on Damian's chin, and now also on his boxers, wetting a perfect circle on the clinging silk. Under you he was beautiful, nervous, and eager.

"So." You tossed your rope in a loop around his neck and brought Damian closer. The pull wasn't right enough to choke, nevermind hurt, so all Damian had left to feel was aroused. His ears were pink at the ends.

This was where everything had started. The sex. Robin chasing Catgirl. Robin cornering Catgirl, and Catgirl flirting her way for escape. But she didn't want to leave, and he didn't want her to leave, so you kissed and pretended the world stopped moving around you. With your whip fished around his neck, just like this.

Damian's cheeks were wine red. At this range, you can dip your nose against his and lick kisses into his mouth. "...So..."

You watched each other's lips. Damian wrapped both arms around your waist, caressing your sides, and you allowed it for the sake of the kiss. Magnetic as always, it is as smooth and slow as melted chocolate. Your heat is still sensitive from Damian's tonguing, so just sitting in his lap stimulates you, building the slight bump of each kiss into a deliberate grind. Damian squeezes your ass. You let him, rolling your wet cunt forward on his length. His boxers are silk thin. Damian moans into your mouth, slicking his tongue against yours. You're squeezed, caressed and bucked up against, which is your sign to gain back your control.

In one hand, you fasten closed the rope and rip yourself off Damian's lips, panting hard. "Beg."

He moaned, "Y-Y/N, I told you..."

"Beg for me to ride you," you interrupt, hissing against his cheek. "Beg for me to hop on your cock and grind on you until you can't feel your legs anymore. Beg me to bounce on your lap until your balls are empty."

Damian reels from your bluntness. He struggles over what to say, dick harder than ever under your forceful hand, but he could never resist you, and lets go of the breath he's been holding.

"Fine." Damian closes his eyes and pouts, all bruised lips and sexy jade irises. It was unreal how much of a TV character he was. No one else you knew pouted and smoldered like a cowboy in a fifties film, but no one else was Batman, either.

"Please ride me. Please."

You're not impressed. "Really? That's all you can give me? I'm sure you remember all the times I would give in for you, Damian. Maybe you should learn something from my," you cup his jaw in your hand, capturing the stare of those honeydew greens, and drop him back with a jerk, " _enthusiasm_."

Again, Damian conflicts over his approach. Right when you're about to hop off his lap, a harsh throb rolls down his cock and Damian's libido forces him to keel.

"Please, please, please ride me," he practically whines, grimacing, "It's all I want. Please. Rip off my... rip off my boxers and fuck me."

"What did I hear you say?"

A prince daring to curse for the first time, his lashes flutter and his voice goes hoarse. Throaty.

"...Fuck me."

He really does want it.

Between your fingers, Damian's skin is so hot it seems to steam. His eyes fix shut tight, starry lashes on cheeks freckled with sweat. It's almost too easy to mold him into shape. What a cute little Batman you've captured, whining and begging to be fucked.

"You are so beautiful," he shudders, "please, please, put me inside you."

A dark grin conquers your face.

"Put your hands together. Above your head."

When Damian did, you tied your whip tight around his wrists against the bedframe. He was strong enough where he could snap it in the throes of passion, and you didn't doubt that your sex was going to get wild enough for that to be possible. Against your throbbing pussy, Damian manhood ground up for friction. With his arms above his head, the network of muscle connecting Damian's chest was flexed, pecs pushed up and against each other, shoulders rounded out, biceps slid into shape and forearms tensed so hard that his handsome veins were shadowed under his skin. And fuck, his skin... gleaming with sweat and shedding lust like it had been poured on him as liquid. Even his hands were attractive. Damian dipped his head low, his dangerous glare cutting through you to your core. He didn't care to be made a fool of, but he was too aroused and too embarrassed to hide that he was enjoying this anymore.

Having your hands free while Damian's weren't tempted you to live all sorts of your fantasies. Batman was laid out for you like a platter of fine food, gleaming in the light and smelling delicious, all muscle and definition. He was a beast when it came to sex. No other man had satisfied you as Damian had, and that was likely due to his approach. The first years of his life had tortured him into being perfect. He knew every skill, he could do anything, and even if Damian had never tried something before, the vicious rules of his biology required that he be perfect at it anyway. Sex wasn't sword-fighting or sniping, but it was one of those physical things that Damian was perfect from since the start. _Pleasuring a woman isn't simple, but after I'm through with you, I'm going to make it seem that way_ , he'd told you once. But that was the thing. All of Damian's physical skills had been born from killing. He could fight because he was taught to kill, he could endure because he was taught to kill, but sex... It was the one thing his body could do that didn't destroy. So Damian embraced it. He made masterful, skillful, downright heavenly love to you, because for once he was the lover instead of the killer.

Needless to say, he was a tough act to follow.

But you knew what you were doing. You were Catwoman. This safe, no matter how unbreakable, would always crack for you. All it would take was a little extra dynamite.

You started by lifting yourself off of his cock. Damian huffed in displeasure, but before he could open his mouth to say something snide, you changed his direction with only your finger. As light as angel-down, you traced his nose bridge. You tapped his chin. You stroked his cheek. You rubbed out the tension in his curious brow with your thumb, which was about as heavy as your touch would go.

"I know what you're doing," Damian said, lip pinched and plump.

"It's obvious," you agreed. Slithering so your shadow fell over his face, you continued your barely-there tracing, thumbing his lip. A victorious grin slid under your halved lids, "A helpless little bat has fallen into my trap, and now I get to _play_ with him..."

Damian's lips snapped shut. He looked indignant, annoyed, but you'd known him long enough to read it as lust-drowned. A little roleplay always killed him.

"Y-Y/N."

You smirked, "Batman."

He wasn't shivering yet, but you'd only touched his face. As soon as you dropped your finger off his chin and began to map his chest, a coil trembled down his body like a snake spine, and Damian's helpless hips bucked to meet yours. You ignored and avoided him. Instead, you traced the soft line of his pecs cleavage. You outlined the deltoid dimple in his shoulders. You ran your hand down his collarbones, which raised and sputtered down as he took in breaths and exhaled ragged ones. All the while, Damian was squirming for every touch, any stimulation of any kind, just from the tip of your finger. It was a ruthless tactic, as was your smile. But it was fun, watching him get harder and harder over just one little touch. You again traced his lip with your finger, and Damian breathed hard against it, craning into your hand.

"Do you want it?" You whispered.

Damian was so turned on he could hardly speak. He nodded over and over again, brainless, and cursed, " _Temptress_."

You laughed at him. "Poor baby. A trapped bat, squirming to be fucked. I think you should beg more."

Damian whined. Genuinely whined, from the hieghts of his chest. Your pressed on the bone of his solar plexus, skin dripping with rosy sweat, and finally moved your hand downward. Damian cursed in relief. You drew it up again. He sagged, mourning the touch. Taking pity on him, you entertained yourself with his tense abs, following the creek line down the center of their well-defined shape. Damian was plenty sexy as a whole, but fuck, those abs... You loved to feel them as Damian flattened his body to his, or smooth your hands up them when you deepthroated him. The last time you'd ridden him, you'd watched them work as Damian responded to your every bounce, rippling under his skin.

"Quit your teasing," he begged, "I can't wait anymore, Y/N... please, please..." Damian swallowed, then looked bashfully into your eyes, "please fuck me."

"Hmm..." You cupped his chin in your hand and used it to examine him. "Not good enough. Your attempts were cute, though. I think I'm going to leave you like this for a while, and then I'll come back when I feel like you're ready to ask me for what you really want."

Damian threw back his head in outrage. He struggled against his restraints at first, rattling the air with the sound of flexing leather, only to go still and cut a glare into the body he couldn't take his eyes off of. Just to really kill him, you gave his aching cock an unsubtle squeeze and then skipped out of the room with Damian swearing a blue streak after you.

You weren't actually going to make him wait too long, or abandon him in there (after all, who could keep away from that scowl long?) but you did have a few things you wanted to grab. Giggling at your own genius, you found your bounty in the fridge and made away with it.

As soon as you were a step inside the room, Damian was hissing, "What? Come to watch me suffer? I'll remember this when it's your turn to be tied up, Y/N, and I will not be kind. I'll bring you to the brink for hours, again and again, but never let you over it. I'll use you to—"

He pauses. Somehow, Damian's face grows even redder. "What are you doing with... whipped cream?"

"Entertaining myself while I wait for you to use your words," you smiled.

Easily, you popped the cap and threw your knee down on Damian's other side. No matter how much he begged with his eyes, you never lowered yourself on the hips so desperate for your attention. Instead, you applied your finger to the cold nozzle and drew. Nothing came out. How unfortunate. Definitely not planned. Sighing, you flipped the can over your hand and shook, but of course, it mysteriously exploded. Damian had never looked as desperate as he did then, watching the white, creamy foam turn to liquid against your warm skin, totally caking your chest. You pretended to jerk the can around like it wasn't working, just so Damian could gawk a little more at your cream-soaked tits.

"...Oops," you grinned.

And there it was—Damian's limit. The muscles in his arms snapped still, his teeth drew blood from his lip, and then the boxers just below your legs were flooding with cum.

"Aw," you cooed, "And I didn't even touch your dick. You're so cute, Batman, cumming in your underwear cause you like me so much. I always wondered if you'd even touched yourself to the thought of me... gotten home from patrol and jerked it in the showers cause' you missed me so much..."

Damian hummed a yes. He didn't look spent, but rather satisfied and worked, like how his grin came easier after the first sparring match of the night. He did grin, lazy and sexy. You ran your hand through his hair, which cloyed together with sweat.

"Fine. I'll use my words," Damian struggled to breathe. "I despise you and your skill. That was cheating, using the whipped cream like that."

"Oh, that wasn't apart of my plan," you crawled back and helped Damian out of his sticky, soaked-through boxers, and even if would break your teasing code to do so, you couldn't help but bend down and catch some of his cum on your tongue.

"Why do I feel like—oh," Damian moaned, "—you're not telling me something."

"I'm Catwoman. It's my thing," you grinned. "Again?"

Damian's lids drew to slits of moss lust. "Please."

Victory. You dragged your tongue across Damian's abdomen, slurping up the remains of his seed and the dripping whip cream. All that talk of Damian being perfect was really true. If he was immune to poisons, immune to sickness, then you really shouldn't have been surprised that his dick was still solid after finishing, but it was a surprise you would welcome as a blessing. Damian's heavy cock was still leaking, and you selfishly slurped his head into your mouth to suckle it up.

"Oh my god," Damian groaned. His hands, still bound above his head (somehow), tightened into fists.

"Now," you hummed, professionally, "back to what I was doing before you lost control of yourself like a horny teenager."

Damian flushed. "TT."

Whipped cream in hand, you turned it over and pressed the nozzle properly this time, creating a drizzling line down the middle of Damian's gasping abs. You didn't dare tear your eyes from Damian's face as you licked up the sweet cream, even if he turned away. If he did you would get louder, slurping and sucking it into your mouth. You licked it off of his sticky abs, the bowl of his collarbones, the chords of muscle in his neck. On his throat you pressed cream-flavored lovebites, sometimes kissing Damian's bruised lips and exchanging the cool foam between your tongues.

Cupping his neck, you leaned your chest into Damian's. The sweetness between you stuck your skin together, mixing with Damian's sweat and Damian's cum into a tasty flavor that had Damian yearning to worship your body with kisses. You kept him to the bedframe with intense kisses, biting his lip between your teeth, slathering your drooling tongues together in a dance, licking his mouth open to spill your moans into his throat. You felt Damian swallow against your mouth. The taste and push and pull of the makeout session required that you sink your body into Damian's, until, inevitably, you couldn't keep to your knees anymore and swooned down to saddle him.

His cock was instantly slick at your touch. Your pussy lips fit against him perfectly, taking shape around him and enticing Damian closer. Combined with the kissing, you and Damian were now a jumbled collection of limbs and moans, him straining desperately forward from his binds to meet your body with his. His cock was so hard it wanted to stand straight, pushing into your pussy's warm reception. If it wasn't the throbbing, then it was one of you who found the break and slid you together.

You welcome the intrusion. Damian's cock is handsome, huge, and heavy on the outside but inside you it is twice that. His head squeezes through your cunt's tight slit until he's a third of the way in, throbbing in time with each ache of your pussy. Instantly, your body takes control and drops you back onto him, slamming you full of what feels like a foot of meat. You purr at the feeling. Damian, on the other hand, snapped open his eyes and gasped. His wrists caught against the headboard as they jerked up in ecstasy. The juices between you, Damian's cum, the cream, and your drool, pop against your skin when you fill yourself up with him. This show is going to be loud.

"Ready, Batman?" You mewl coyly, mere centimeters from Damian's face, "Ready to be fucked until you can't remember your own name? To be stolen by Catwoman like the little gem you are?"

Damian lets it all go. He lets every noise free, every ecstasy-flushed grin show, and every thought loose, "I'm yours. Take me... T-take every piece of me, beloved."

You ride him reckless. Hands breaking the bedframe, cum and spit and cream squelching between your bodies with every wild thrust, trapping his cock in your pussy with a full-force squeeze, a pythons grip, draining him of every molecule of cum he could give. Damian groans and gasps and whines. _Ride me oh fuck ride me bounce on my cock just like that you naughty thieving slut oh my fuck, harder, faster, you're doing me so well_. When you needed to breathe you'd go on him slow, and Damian would twist and thrash to get himself even a little deeper within you, rolling his cock up in agonized, starving thrusts. Your kissing is too sloppy to be called kissing. It's more appropriate to say tonguing, because both of you are too crazed to do anything more intricate than gracelessly lick into each other's mouths. At one point, Damian breaks off and dips his head to your cleavage. You let him have his fun there, moving slower so his mouth could slurp up the soup of sugar on your chest as you fucked him. You wrap your arms around his hair and hold him deeper to your chest. His hair smells like cowl and cave, which make Damian all the more kissable.

A snap sound sinks your thighs flush to his, pausing.

"Did you just... just," you struggled down the saliva flooding your mouth, "unclasp my bra with your teeth?"

"Tongue." Damian's insufferable grin kisses into your ear.

Above your head, Damian twists his wrists and your whip snaps like spider silk. His freedom earned, Damian smugly enjoyed your shock while it lasted, and then the second it began to break, took two handfuls of your thighs and dragged you closer, deeper, onto his throbbing cock. The press was so close it felt like he was pumping into your damn womb. Your gasp is dainty and breathy. Disassembled like a Jenga tower by that one simple pull, you collapsed forward into Damian's arms.

"You could've done that the whole time?" You pouted.

"I'm Batman," Damian said, and left it at that.

It was both a declaration of skill and a promise of how bruised your waist is going to be tomorrow, plotted in purple ovals where he dug in his hands.

He lifted your head to kiss you. The needy, reckless kisses from earlier were replaced by a single meaningful peck, like Damian was trying to press all of his love into you at once. His smoky eyes dizzied over your face for a moment, a moment he dragged on for ages, and then Damian lovingly kissed your unclipped bra off of your shoulders.

"I missed being full of you like this," you hushed.

"I missed you," Damian breathed in reply. His voice was so quiet, so worshipful, that he could have been praying. He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder. "Nnng, fuck... Missed showing you... who's the better sexual partner," he smirked.

You hitched yourself up by an inch, then squeezed every bit of him back inside you. Damian visibly coiled up. You warned him, "Me. Correct?"

"Hmm..." Damian smirked.

"What? I just made you cum without even touching you!" You gave his chest a playful shove.

"Fine," his sultry voice massaged your skin, wracking a shiver up your back as he bit your earlobe, "most of the time."

Damian embraced you against his chest, one arm closed around to keep you there with the shoulder, and the other hooked low across your back, both guiding your fucking and tenderly caressing you. You let yourself relax against him and laze there. He would do this, and often when he truly missed you. It wasn't about who was in control or who was topping whom, but more about Damian's idiot romantic brain literally needing to be sweet with you. That had been when you'd uncovered that Damian was in love with you. Your rough, violent sex would turn soft at the end, and then Damian would murmur sweet nothings in your ear and kiss you slow as he fucked you, bringing you closer, pumping slower. He was the kind of crazy person who didn't care much for his own orgasm over yours. Damian's heaven probably includes you, naked, covered in flower petals or some shit, whispering your love to him as he licked your sore sex. Everyone who worked with him would call Damian cruel, but as he whispered into your mouth _don't worry, I'll take care of you,_ you couldn't imagine a world where that was true.

So close together, you could feel every rumble and hitch in Damian's chest as you resumed. You hugged under his arms like a teddy bear and bounced viciously onto his cock, slapping your thighs against his in a rough, solid tempo. Damian breathed moans through his teeth every time you rocked your hips onto him. You would roll back your pussy until the seam of his head squeezed for freedom, only to sheath it again when Damian fucked his cock back into your tight, dripping cunt. Half the reason the fit was so small was how big Damian was. As much as you were attracted to him, you would never exaggerate his size. It was just as big as it seemed, huge, girthy, and gleaming with your slick. When you looked down to where your pussy clung to his manhood, a puddle of your juices flowed off of him with every powerful thrust. They had splattered across Damian's sticky abs and your bobbing ass. Every time you lifted off his hips, slick and cum would cling to your thighs and drool across your bodies. But the best of it was the sex itself. Damian fastened you to him and in one thrust, he took off, hammering inside you, steadying his legs on the mattress so he could physically pick up his hips and drive deeper, pounding you like an animal.

You came. It was impossible not to. Damian's taut muscles pinned you against him, his breath was ragged and hoarse in your neck, his cock viciously fucked you. Your tight little pussy was nothing against him. He just kept going, and going, ignoring your cries and your pussy's overstimulated milking, moving with such speed and aggression that you could only feel when he was inside you to the fullest, when his cock would be totally flush to your spasming cunt walls. That felt like every millisecond. You wailed and cried and begged, and Damian obeyed, tirelessly stuffing you full of him. During the relentless thrusting he'd brought your face off of his shoulder with your hair and tried not to cum at the sight of your ecstasy. He met your eyes, memorizing their orgasmic flutter, and drove in even faster somehow, pumping and pounding and railing you like a fucking madman. Your pussy tried to work at its own pace and ride out your orgasm, but Damian's massive, veiny, throbbing cock drove in and took another from you anyway. You squealed at the overlap, throwing yourself across him. Under you, Damian chuckled darkly, finally slowing down.

"You didn't... you didn't... c-cum," you gasped.

"I held myself back," Damian said, like it was nothing, and that was something normal human beings could do in a storm of sex like that. "Focused on you instead."

You tried to sit up straight, "Let me..."

"Not yet," Damian closed his eyes in total bliss, flinching every time your pussy gave a particularly enthusiastic squeeze. "Want to... feel you. Get me all wet. Soak me twice."

You laid your head on his shoulder, sensitive and shuddering, while he laid there and enjoyed the way you milked him. Damian's cock was still hard in your belly, gripped by your flexing cunt, but as unmoved as a stone pillar was by the wind. Again. Perfect at sex. You would have hated him if you weren't drooling over the double orgasm he'd just blown you into, and the rest that he was probably planning to put you through tonight. Your breasts were pushed up by the pressure of his chest against your own. You could feel him breathe, and it seemed like Damian had barely broken a sweat. He'd sinfully unraveled you, taken all of you for himself, stuffing you full and caking himself in your cum, and all without much effort. You despised him. You also wanted to marry him, just so no other woman could be as blissed out by his cock as you were now. Damian didn't see other people. He probably didn't want to, and even if he did, your possessive mind knew that he'd never be able to make love to someone like he made love to you.

"Satisfied?" You asked him.

"Almost," your Batman smiled. One of his knuckles caressed your waist as he looked at you, lids halved by his intentions, "I love you. I'm glad that we have settled our arrangement. Now, no man will fuck you like I do, and no two people will be able to make love as we do."

Funny, how similar the two of you were at times.

"You don't need to worry about that, Damian," you kissed him slow, smooth and loving, nuzzling your noses, "I don't think it's possible for anyone else to even come close to the way your cock plows me down." Damian snorted, and you ran your fingers through his hair as you added, significantly shier, "...and... I love you too."

Damian closed his eyes. He pecked your lips in dips of his head, noses colliding, "Will you help me finish, beloved? Show me how much you love me?"

"Yeah," you sighed, coy, "but you'll have to buy me a new whip. They're expensive, and the material is really strong."

 _...And yet he snapped it with his bare hands,_ you thought as you took in the smoky, smirking look on the man beneath you. _That whip could support my whole weight..._

Damian purred, "I'll buy a few. We'll go through plenty, if you continue to look so cute while my dick stuffs you full."

"Damian," your cheeks went hot.

"Tell me," he clawed your ass with his nails, sliding his palms along the invisible prickled hair on your back, "how does it feel, sitting all the way on my cock like that, Catwoman?"

Oh no. He was joining in on the roleplay thing. You were totally doomed.

"Why don't you tell me?" You retorted, sly. Palming Damian's strong chest in both hands, you pushed him onto his back and lifted off his cock just enough to bend up and look at him, your shadow covering his face in the silver moonlight. "You seem to like it there, nine inches deep in my pussy."

Damian cocked a dangerous eyebrow. "Ten inches."

You laughed at him. "Feels like a foot either way," you replied, which simmered Damian back down into comfortable flattery. Boys. So easy to play with.

"I love it," he whispered. Damian's eyes picked across your face in dancing circles, settling on your eyes when he felt brave. "Your every squeeze... your warmth... and god, you get so wet... I prefer you on your back, just so I can watch how your cunt takes me all in."

You kissed his chin. "I prefer you like this."

"On my back," Damian murmured.

"Mm-mm," you shook your head. Again, you palmed his handsome chest, dragging your hands wherever they pleased. "Laid out for me, I mean. Wanting."

Damian smirked, "To?"

"Be fucked," you answered. "Ridden like a racehorse. You liked it so much just now you took control so you could fuck me even harder."

"I shouldn't have," Damian said. "You aren't on top often. I should have appreciated it."

"You should have," you agreed, pressing your nails into his abs. "Are you going to now, Batman? Or will I have to tie you up again?"

Damian's eyes glittered in the dark. Slowly, he raised his arms above his head and folded his hands, open, for your taking.

"I'll be a good boy," he winked.

Trying to shovel down how hot you thought that was, you slid your hands up too, pinning Damian's wrists down above his head in your hand. Like your whip, this was a grip he could easily escape. But what mattered was that Damian didn't want to, and that Damian was exposing himself to you. His handsome throat was vulnerable to kisses or to your claws. His beating heart was right underneath your other hand, and if you were an assassin, a killer, you could take it out and have the whole city of Gotham under your control. But Damian loved you. More than that, he trusted you, enough to bare his heart to you without the bat symbol to protect it.

You kissed the skin over his calm pulse. Then you began to fuck him senseless.

Damian squirmed from the beginning, wanting more from what the little twists and pulses of your pussy around him could give. You went slow. Damian loved it slow, agonizingly, torturously slow, dragging your pussy off him like you pulled a spoon from deep, thick, cloying cake batter. With his face right below yours the entire time, you got to watch Damian gasp and feel the breath of his moans on your cheek. His brow pressed low to his eyes, furrowed hard, dreamy bliss wobbling across his lip. Your slick had been collecting so long that every pump of your hips came with sweet-tasting suction. Damian's moan strangled out of his mouth into something like a mewl, which told you just how well things were going.

"Look at you," you giggled as you rode him, "you've wanted this for so long, haven't you? I bet you've dreamt for months about being under me like this. My little fuck toy. Tell me how bad you want it."

"So bad," Damian moaned high in his throat, "I love it when you take control... ride me like the toy I am... reward me when I make you cum..."

You kissed Damian deeply. At the same time, you fixed his wrists together hard in your hand, changing your rolling into bouncing, bobbing on and off his cock. You'd let it slip almost all the way out of you, teasing his sensitive head with your pussy's warm entrance, then slurping him all the way in again with your pulsing, inviting cunt. The cum and slick and spit practically magnetized his head to your pussy lips, where you would grasp his shaft and rub his head against your core's sobbing front. You were sore from his earlier roughness, but it improved the squeeze of taking him inside you, making it even easier to feel and stutter over. The feeling of his thickness stuffing you to your belly was unimaginable. No matter how many times you would do it, the pressure of his cock rolling through your moist slit, it's every ridge and vein molded to by your tightness, never failed to flush your core with heat. Harder, you slammed your weight onto Damian's dick until he was sobbing under you to go faster.

As you got closer, you dropped Damian's wrists to fill his hands with yours. He squeezed, and you kissed him, tonguing open his crying mouth and swallowing down his shuddering mewls. His cock throbbed like a heartbeat in your pussy, so you met each pulse with one of your own. Your legs ached from the abuse of working you on and off his chiseled body, but the pleasure drowned the feeling, making it more into a satisfying ache like the pain of his nails in your skin. Watching Damian writhe and curl his toes was one turn-on, but his moans, his quiet, desperate begging, then his louder squeals for more, _fuck me fuck me p-please_ , nearly flushed you to the edge. Batman was supposed to be a being with stores of control that some gods envied, but right now he was a gasping mess begging for you to pleasure him until he came.

He was close. Damian's grip on your hands was ferocious, face twisted in a burning, lustful exhale. You plunged your squishing pussy full of his monster cock. The angle brushed your clit against his skin at every sink, so you would drag yourself off him, bounce back down, liquid squelching and popping between your sweaty, sticky bodies and moan, stimulated to the max. But you held back. Not for him, though. For Damian, you snapped your hips together relentlessly, reaming him to the hilt at least twice a second, fucking him out of his mind, suctioning your pussy to his tip, driving faster and faster toward release. Damian admired you through his ink-black lashes, drooling over the sight of your thighs wrapped around his and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. You laid yourself forward to kiss him, and in that kiss you sensed the chord in Damian's belly run out of length and snap.

He came hard. Damian flung back his head and choked your name, pumping cum into your stomach like a serving machine, bursting and bursting. It was that which did it for you. Being filled up like that, until hot, sticky cum was flooding out of you around the shape of Damian's cock, filling your womb with seed, made you cum the hardest you've cum in months. Spasming in ecstasy, you fell forward into Damian's arms. You held each other there, cheek to cheek, while what felt like a quart of cum poured from your stretched slit.

"I... I feel..." you heaved for breath, "like a donut. With filling."

Damian chuckled. He couldn't speak between the breath he'd lost, so he summed up his thoughts by swiping liquified whipped cream off your chest and licking it off his finger. "Glazed," he said.

You giggled. "Idiot."

For a while, you regained your breath together. Damian's heartbeat slowed to a content drumming under your ear. His big hands massaged and caressed your exhausted back. You felt him kiss your hair.

Just when you were relaxed enough to fall asleep, Damian rolled you over.

You opened your mouth to complain. Then Damian kissed your calve and pulled it over his shoulder, which was too sweet and sexy to deny. At first, you were met only with his face as he smirked at you, then your eyes fell down, along his collarbones, between his chest and below his abs, finally, to the cockhead stroking through your cream-coated slit.

Damian licked his lips.

He was still hard.


End file.
